It’s been a hot minute since I sat down to write and it came from an opportunity when a mental health awareness website asked me to be a contributor.
Was I honored? ABSOLUTELY.
Was I ready? Maybe….?
What I realized was, in order to write and be a worthy contributor to help others on their journey it would require me to share my story and why I would be a beneficial resource to others who are struggling. Which means….it’s time to tell my story, the one no one knew about, the one that is incredibly hard to share.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: How it started
For most of my twenties, I have struggled with depression. It was nothing new, had bouts from time to time but was always able to control it. Or so I thought. The roller coaster that is depression took a straight shot down when my heart was broken and a month later I found out I was sick. It wasn’t the best timing, it wasn’t expected and I sure as hell was prepared to see what it would take to survive this year. It also was four years ago, but in order to explain how I was diagnosed with MDD you have to understand what in the hell happened to get to that point….my darkest point.
In that year, I moved out of the place I called home. Forced to say good-bye to people who had become a part of my family, forced to learn to live my life on my own for the first time in almost four years and forced to learn how to handle the million questions when I would go out in public (total small town problem).
A month later….with my belongings still packed (had to move home), I was sitting in an office for a routine pre-op procedure when the surgeon sat down, closed the door and gave me the news I never saw coming. Words like: mass, life threatening, surgeries and expense were used like it was normal. But my life….it was about to get royally screwed up. The reality, there was a mass in my jaw, that had become accessed and infected….to the point the infection was spreading towards my brain. It was explained to me that people die from this because they never go to the doctor with their symptoms. Well, I’m never typical I guess, because I didn’t have any signs or symptoms. If I hadn’t gone into that office for a routine procedure, I wouldn’t be writing this because I never go to the doctor’s.
But it was real. So….the worst part of it, in my opinion, because my thought processes were skewed at the time was the cost. The 5 figure cost. Yes, even with insurance….I was going to owe a shit load of money, money I didn’t have. But was required to pay for immediate surgeries that without having them….I wouldn’t make it.
That was where my addiction to work began. The addiction that would almost be my demise 3 years later…..if only I knew just how bad this obsession I would develop would become.
As a result, I had 3 surgeries over a 9 month period, but by month 6 in, I was losing it. By then I had gained 30 pounds, I was struggling more than I ever had with depression and suddenly this whole concept of anxiety was brought to my attention. Between the heart break, the illness, and now being required to work every single day….and I mean 30 days straight to afford my new found debt. That was it. That was when I lost sight of why I was alive and started to become a robot. Wake up. Go to work. Go home. Binge watch tv. Go to bed. Repeat every single day.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: The summer of awakening
Robot status. That was my reality until that summer…..the summer that I was standing in a Macy’s mirror staring at a stranger. Her body wasn’t recognizable. Her big ass smile, non-existent. Her posture slouched….even more than normal. #swayback. That’s where the tears streamed down her face and she realized she was at a crossroads….she was slowly dying a purposeless life and she was hiding her pain so well even she didn’t realize what had transpired.
It was that summer that a friend, who was super health, would be drinking a shake, a shake that would turn my life upside-down. That summer, I watched her drink it, I watched her be active and healthy. That’s when I started driving to her gym, to buy that shake, never actually using the gym or even truly walking in. Habit: drive to gym, buy shake, come home, drink shake…..but that was the only aspect of my life that I changed. THANKFULLY….that shake had a dense superfood base so it was helping. But change….wasn’t necessary it was do or die.
It was because of a hometown friend who ran an online accountability group, that would be the catalyst to finding part of myself again. That summer, I would lose 12 pounds in my first three weeks of participating in an online group, working out 30 minutes a day and still being able to have balance (thank God). It wasn’t just the fitness aspect that was life changing. The community…..this supportive group of super busy women, they showed up every single day, they were understanding, they were kind and caring towards my struggles. Because of these women, I decided that summer that I was going to pay it forward to at least one person…..that’s where the tides started to turn.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: Funeral home frequency
By the end of that year, I had had my third surgery. Each month I would work 28-30 days, then take off one day to drive home and do my monthly check up to check my surgical site (there was a bone graft and implant that my body could reject) so I was forced to take time off every month to make sure I wasn’t rejecting the foreign objects. To say I was tired AF….that would be an understatement, but I started to realize….this was not living. I was still slowly dying.
Because of that exhaustion, that desire to pay it forward to one person, it sparked curiosity. There was an opportunity that was presented to be towards the end of that year, to become a health and wellness coach……. I know you’re probably like “ummm Gina, you’re a hot mess who could you help.” That’s when I quickly realized….I was perfect because most people were struggling too but they need a light to show them it was worth the battle.
After being a “coach” for 6 months, (I use that term loosely because I wasn’t doing it full time or even part time it was just a hobby, I realized that there was a really life-changing opportunity here. If I could make an impact, I wouldn’t need to work 30 days at a time at my day job…..and that my friends was MOTIVATING. Time. I committed time to this opportunity. Determination. That became my foundation for changing my life.
Consistent AF….that’s what I became. Lives were freaking being changed. Like a lot of lives and I was making an impact so I made an income. That income took me from working 30 days between both of my jobs to working my day job and coaching on the weekends. Booming….6 months later, my business was booming…..and that’s when it happened. The phone call that started the domino effect that changed the course of my life forever.
At the time, I was living in Florida, I had escaped to be honest. Living at home was too much, I got tired of being reminded of everything I had lost (small town syndrome) people hadn’t stopped asking me about my ex, why we hadn’t fixed things and why I seemed different. So logical Gina, lol, decided a new state would be perfect. So I packed my life. Moved. Then went to our annual coaching event. That is where I received a call that my grandfather, my best friend, had a massive stroke and he was fighting for his life.
In the car I went, with my entire life still packed, because I never got settled in the 6 weeks I was there….and I made the 24 hour trip home. It wouldn’t be long, that he would fight multiple strokes and eventually pass away from complications. Rocked. My world was rocked. I wasn’t strong enough to move back….so I took a transfer only 5 hours away in hopes that being closer to home would help the fact that I was so depressed I couldn’t fathom moving away and being alone.
….this never stopped. A month later, on a Monday night, I was laying on the couch. So sick all day. Then the phone rang….it was the police from my hometown. They asked me if my dad was named Mark, I replied “yes…..why?” And that would be when I was told that my dad, my only parent, had passed away unexpectedly from heart failure earlier that morning. Fuck….that was my response, what the fuck there’s no way he’s dead. I just kept screaming it…..he was. This is where I made a huge mistake. After doing the formalities, burying him….still can hear the gun salute to this day. I went right back to work, trying to work my business and work full time.
….and this is where the icing on the cake to my demise came. That week, that my dad passed away, we would find out that my aunt’s battle with ALS, it was serious….and my best friend who had been battling cancer, it was terminal. So those weekends spent working, I drove home every single weekend, and spent time with my family and friend. It wouldn’t be more than 3 months before my friend too would pass away. Done….I was fucking done with my life.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: The diagnosis
That was the foundation. The foundation upon how eventually I would be diagnosed with MDD aka major depressive disorder with symptoms including insomnia, anxiety, hopelessness, loss of interest in all activities, fatigue, loss of appetite, agitation, irritability and social isolation.
Over the next year and a half, learning how to grieve having my world completely rocked, I completely lost sight of everything I was working for. Instead of seeking freedom, I was seeking distraction. Instead of being a source of inspiration and empowerment, I was anger and bitter. Eventually, it all came to a head, because newsflash you can’t keep living your life like it didn’t happen….because guess what, it fucking did. It sucked. But it happened and you needed to deal with it.
But I didn’t want to ask for help, my family was struggling and I felt shame for allowing my depression to get to the point that it caused illness. It would be on the eve of 2 years, that I would first hear the words: major depressive disorder. I didn’t accept it. Duuhhh….who wants to admit that? So I underwent tests, like a lot of medical tests, because my doctor couldn’t understand what was happening to my body. It seemed like my organ functioning was slowly, the bags under my eyes should have been designer they were so big….and my behavior/mood swings they were something fiercely unreal.
Then, a series of unfortunate events would push me over the edge. My travel job contract would be ended with no hope of a new position for weeks, my car would legit die when I was driving in front of a semi….nothing like almost dying to force an awakening, and I would get really sick. Home. I went home. Plan…was to buy a car, get another travel job and get the hell out there….but 9 months later I am sitting in my hometown writing this. So there’s that.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: The path begrudgingly taken
Therapy. Let’s just say it. Therapy.
That is where I would hear and be diagnosed with “major depressive disorder.” I knew. I freaking knew. But this time. I accepted it. It would be in those sessions that we would dive deep into not only the last four years, but the issues that were underneath the circumstances that had lead to my demise.
If it wasn’t for those sessions, this disease would have won….and yes you know what that means. But, I had a shitload of stuff to live for and I wasn’t about to be selfish wasting my life when I watched my dad, grandpa and best friend lose theirs to health issues they didn’t ask for. So, I took it seriously.
And that is where the personal growth journey went from convenient to absolutely freaking necessary to survive. So, how did I work through this diagnosis. Therapy. Saying it again because it’s not taboo, it’s 100% amazing. Personal development, I read and listened to books that covered every single topic I was being triggered by: self image, body issues, abandonment, heart break, financial fear, self worth, leadership and my personal favorite: not giving a fuck (about opinions I 150% was totally giving a fuck about my life). Working out….was a part of my job as a health and wellness coach but it took on a therapeutic level. Sweat became my sanity and I would work through multiple programs to lose the weight I had gained from this disease. Community….that health and fitness success group, that is where I would go for support and damn if they didn’t lift me up on a level I never expected.
Routine, I had to develop a routine. Find a job. Buy a car. Get my freaking life back….but this time I was going to take a life worth living back and stop being a victim. That’s right. I owned that poor attitude and decided I was going to do something worth living for and EMPOWER and INSPIRE women with my authenticity instead of continuing the pattern of hiding mental health issues.
MDD—> The battle that chose me: The comeback
Major depressive disorder.
It was now associated with who I was BUT I had a choice….let it define me or let me define it. That is exactly what I did. Instead of hiding, I started to openly share my battle with mental health, loss, grief, abandonment and heart break with my fitness community page. It was there, on live stream, that I would openly share who I was, what I was fighting and what I was doing to comeback.
It would be awesome to tell you everything was amazing after my new routine. That life magically came together. That I found my prince charming, got an amazing job and my business and personal life were booming but that wasn’t the case. Because life isn’t a fairytale, it however, was a narrative and I became the author.
So that my friends….that is where the comeback begins. Over the course of being diagnosed, going to therapy and completely changing the course of my life, I would find my true calling: I am a lightwkrker. My job, purpose and passion is to be a source of inspiration, empowerment and an example to show other women that our stories, our past they don’t define us. That it does not matter who you are, where you came from or what you’ve been through….you are worth a life that is full of hope, happiness and love.
It’s not easy. There are days where the depression wins. There are days where the grief suffocates me and I get so angry I scream because that void in my heart will never be full.
But there are also days, where I crush my workout. Where I inspire women to start their journeys. Where I share openly and honestly about my successes and my failures in my business which ignites hope in others to take their life back too.
The most important statement in all of that…..THERE ARE DAYS.
Which means there is still time to write my narrative, just like there is time for you to write yours…. every single day is a chance, to improve upon the previous day. To learn, to grow, to succeed, to fail forward and to carryon that hope that you my dear are in fact on the right path and those struggles, they just became the foundation on which you will TAKE YOUR FREAKING LIFE BACK.
Don’t lose hope.
Because there are still days.
