We Made Them This Way

Last night, I went to a college night in a very small town that I'm sure is very nice, but I've only had weird experiences in.

Sometimes, Arkansas lives up to its reputation and, unfortunately, this is one of those towns that keeps the stereotypes alive.

The reason I admit this is because it became very clear that it isn't personal prejudice--this is what they are seen as by the general public.

How do I know this?

We were put on a panel and each "college" spoke for 3ish minutes on the highlights of their schools.

Each and every one of them talked about their welding programs, their mechanical programs, their 8 week programs, their agriculture programs. Even the non tech schools focused the entirety of their elevator speeches on their technical programs.

Two of them even told the kids in prettier terms that college wasn't meant for them and they would drop out/fail out if they tried.

Ultimately, the message being sent to these kids from 20 different presenters was: "You can be anything you want to be!!!!...in the technical industry."

What I have disliked about these kids before last night is that they are undisciplined, they've got gnarly test scores, they are rude and loud and crass, and they seem to just not care about themselves at all.

What I realized last night is that for their entire lives, these kids have probably been sent the message that they aren't smart or good enough to succeed, that they are meant to be future garbage collectors, mechanics, chicken collectors.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with those careers, no shame in them at all. However, when they are presented to you as your only aspirations, I get this twinging feeling that something is wrong.

Maybe it's the millennial in me that says, "No! We can do anything we want to do!" or maybe its the deep seated sense of justice and fairness in me that thinks that maybe if these kids were raised to believe that they had worth and meaning and the capacity to learn and grow and be then they would maybe take more time with their studies and personal care.

Speak words of truth and hope always, to old, to young, to those you know you'll see every day after, to those you know you'll never see again. Never allow yourself to contribute to the self-fulfilling prophesy of worthlessness in another person's life.

Because no matter their age, no matter their station in life, no matter how sticky or stinky or snarly a person is, everyone has value and purpose, even if they don't see that yet.

Prozac Nation: A Confession of Allegiance

Today, I am starting anti-depressants.

It's a decision I have made willingly but have a history of staunchly refusing for the majority of my life.

No, I'm not depressed, but episodes of depression, headaches, nausea, and a whole host of other symptoms have added up to a long, frustrating history with chronic anxiety.

Whether it's social anxiety or the anxiety disorder I've been struggling to conceal since I was a child, anxiety has dominated most every conversation and interaction and self-reflection I've ever had.

I have long feared making this decision because I feared the consequences of what would happen if I were to go off of the medication. Would I be plunged into an even deeper pit than before I started them?

I think I was also scared of feeling "normal."
I've never felt normal.
My happiest moments in life have all been tinged with anxiety. Happiness in itself scares me. I've always worried that if I'm happy, it just means that unhappiness is about to catapult itself toward me in the subsequent moments.

I've gone to counseling, I've joined support groups, I have an accountability partner from group I don't even know the last name of, I've coped, I've exercised, I've gotten fidget tools, I've taken homeopathic helpers, I've prayed. It. Doesn't. Help. Not long-term, at least.

There's a weird mentality about being Christian that if I am a good enough Christian, if I pray hard enough, if I am prayed over, then this will subside. There's a mentality that this is spiritual warfare, not serotonin.

The truth is, this doesn't have anything to do with my faith:
I love God.
I lack the necessary amounts of serotonin receptors.
It is as uncomplicated as that.

I've never wanted to start them in the midst of a major depressive episode because that would be admitting defeat. If there's one thing anyone knows about me, it's that I'm tenacious. I'm insanely tenacious. If I can fix it, I will fix it.

Another frustration in friends and family pushing pills is that they don't deal with my anxiety. They may deal with the effects of my anxiety, but they have no idea what my disorder feels like. They just want me to chill the heck out.

You aren't taking pills! You don't know!!! Don't sell me on something you know nothing of other than researching them.

A year ago, I joined a support group. It's all online, just enough to troll through responses and whatnot. Through that, I met Lubs. She and I are similar ages, struggle with the same thing at the same level of severity, and get on really well. I never went back to the forums after that; we communicate, commiserate, and collaborate.

Her symptoms temporarily subsided around 6 months or so ago, and we lost touch.
Last week, she reappeared and we started our talks again. She had tried all that I had as well and finally had given in to trying medication for her anxiety.

For me, now, the timing is perfect. I'm still striving against my anxiety, but I'm not debilitated. I have a friend who is starting this process with the same struggles I do. I have camaraderie and I have sensibility. No one is pressuring me. It's finally my choice.

Shocker, I'm worried.
What is life without anxiety? Or rather, what is life with chemical stabilization?

I guess I'll find out.