Where have you been, Julia?

I know, I know; it’s been awhile.  Several weeks, actually.  I haven’t been posting much, or blogging, or advertising for challenge groups.  

I have been taking some time to care for myself.   You see, before now, I’ve been too ashamed to talk about it much, but I have a disease.  It affects 121 MILLION other people around the world RIGHT NOW (Healthline).  

What is that disease, you ask?

It is depression.  And people don’t talk about it.

Depression has this stigma.  In fact, in my first major depressive episode as a teenager, I BEGGED my mother to take me to a psychiatrist or to put me on medication; she FLAT OUT refused.  She told me that the stigma of depression would follow me for the rest of my life and ruin any chances I would ever have of getting a good job.

She wasn't completely wrong. While it hasn't hindered me professionally, it has kept me from purchasing long-term disability insurance since I had EVER in MY LIFE been treated for depression. That was years ago, too.

Mind you, this is a hereditary disease; she’s not here for me to ask, but I am fairly certain my mother suffered from depression herself.

Anyway, with this most recent episode that began last fall, I did seek help, but I hid it from everyone.  I was ashamed; what was wrong with me that I just couldn’t SNAP OUT OF IT?  Was I crazy?  Psycho?  Was I worse because I needed medication to deal with it?

It is difficult to hide an elephant the size of major depression.  People who didn’t even know me that well could tell that something just wasn’t right.  I told everyone I was fine, but only if they bothered to ask.

I was not fine.  I am still NOT FINE.

Once I finally started opening up to close friends, I received amazing support; that is not surprising - I have amazing people in my life.  But overwhelmingly, what I started hearing when I would tell people about my anxiety and depression is this:

“Me, too.”

I thought I would hear “oh, you should just cheer up!  You have nothing to be depressed about!”  I did hear that, too.  The “me too” people said it quietly, under their breaths, and I would have NEVER known if they hadn’t told me.

Why are people with this disorder are treated as though they have done something wrong?  They haven’t; it is both chemical and genetic and absolutely no one’s fault.  If someone with leukemia were treated the way people suffering from depression were treated, the world would have something to say about it.

For the last year and some months, I have had the honor of being a Beachbody Coach.  I have helped countless people get fit, lose weight, and change their lives.  I have been doing my part to #endthetrend of obesity in this country.  Now, I’ve decided to use coaching as a platform to change something else:

I’m going to talk about depression.  Openly and honestly.  I want other people, especially women, to know that they are not the only ones.  I want to help them find healthy ways to deal with their disease.  I want to help them to find resources to seek out the roots of their problems instead of hoping for a magic pill to make it go away.

I am not a doctor or a therapist.  I cannot diagnose, treat, or cure any disease. But what I can do is talk about it - all of it.  I’m going to talk about what I have done that helps, and what doesn’t.  I’m going to talk about how I feel, even on the bad days, and I’m going to talk about what I am learning about myself and the world.  I want other people to join the conversation.  I want others to know that they do not have to fight this battle alone.

I want to #endthestigma of anxiety and depression.  I hope you will join me.

Be fierce!