Honestly, I never saw myself as somebody who’d be interested in starting a blog. I suppose I never thought I’d have something worth writing about. Until recently, there wasn’t much I wanted to talk about openly, but I now see it as an opportunity to share my story and document a personal journey to strive toward self-development, peace, and inner joy.
You may be asking yourself, “where did this all start?” And “what happened that has so suddenly motivated you to embark on this journey so publically?” I’ll explain:
In 2012 I was 14-years-old, homeschooled and living an extremely conservative life in Pennsylvania. I was one of 6 children and my mother was pregnant. Our family had just gone through the loss of a 2nd-trimester miscarriage, so this child was going to be our family’s rainbow baby. I was particularly ecstatic over the fact the due date was in VERY close proximity to my birthday. In my mind, it was all planned. This child’s 1st birthday would fall on my sweet 16, we’d have the hugest party anyone had seen, ESPECIALLY since I’d share it with the rainbow child. Then, the fateful day arrived.
November 6, 2012. My mom had a personal doppler at home, (something she purchased after the loss of the previous child.) and that morning she could not find a heartbeat. By evening Judah Jubilee Young was born, directly into the arms of Jesus. She was a precious baby girl. I still can envision the smell of her blankets we took home. Rather than celebrating, we mourned. Her funeral was held on the next closest Saturday we could have it planned for, November 17, 2012, my 15th birthday. It was a weird day. Family and friends lining up in the church to offer their condolences, but then following it up with a “happy birthday” and handing me a small package.
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This is where the story really begins. I will perhaps share more about Judah, her short life, and her impact in a later blog, but for now, just know that her life is special and treasured. It changed the course of my entire family’s life forever.
As the family went through grief, mom quickly became pregnant again and less than a year later on October 10, 2013, gave birth to a healthy baby girl, Evelyn Love. Nothing was perfect however, mom still was struggling with her depression and I was an adolescent, confused and trying to make sense of the strange world. I actually had gone to see a psychiatrist for a few months. I hated him, but lucky for me he was later arrested for molesting a number of his young, female patients. However, he also will be a story for another time.
January after Evelyn was born, my mom was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, an autoimmune disease that has no permanent cure. By this time I was 16. With everything that had gone on in the past 20 months, I started to believe that the world was an ugly tragedy set-up for some to thrive and others to suffer. I found myself often on the latter end.
Mom was not getting any better and the brisk Pennsylvania weather was of no help. Not to mention that literally everywhere she went, there would reminders and trauma of the “rainbow” pregnancy she had. The solution? My parents opted that a move to get away from it all would help in healing. At this time I was angry. I was 17, I just started my first in-school experience, and I had my first boyfriend who gave me so many new experiences. With my life finally starting to look up, the last thing I wanted was to give it all up and go somewhere foreign to me. By the summer of 2015, it was done. My parents did what they thought best for the family and in August before my senior year of high school, I moved to South Carolina.
As you can imagine leaving everything and everyone behind was so hard, but I knew there had to be a silver-lining, and that wouldn’t come until 3 years later.
Honestly, the next few years were pretty uninteresting and unimportant for purposes of this blog. In 2017 I split from that first boyfriend of mine (a story I will share at a later time) and I had transferred to a few different colleges. However, there was no real trauma again until 2019.
2019 hit me like a bus. I was living with my new boyfriend and it was stressful. My parents were unsupportive of the idea since we were not married, and I was just starting my first semester of clinicals for my education major. My anxiety became my closest companion. It was with me when I woke up, I carried it in my backpack, and it was with me when I laid my head down at night. I started falling behind in school and I didn’t know why I was so paranoid. I was afraid of something happening that would ruin my relationship, or that he would leave because my baggage was too heavy. It got to the point where I would hyperventilate just by the thought of opening blackboard.
May 2019, It was finals week and my anxiety was consuming me. That’s when all hell broke loose. My sister had come to visit me and she was unstable. She was making plans of killing herself and I didn’t know what to do. I was petrified. I tried to lure her into my car so I could drive her to a hospital but she wouldn’t come. Eventually, I got her outside of the apartment, she just stared at the major highway that was only 50 yards ahead of us. I knew what she was thinking. I was mortified by the thought of it. I screamed and eventually got her into my car. That week, my sister was admitted to the hospital and after having been discharged she currently is doing better than she ever has in her life.
One day, much like many events in my life, I will write these stories in further detail but for now these summaries are all I have to offer.
After the spring epidemic with my sister, I spiraled. I was tense and on-edge about everything. I couldn’t bring myself to ever finish those classes that semester because every time I thought of them, I panicked. I associated the courses with fear and pain. This was my fault and it has started to raise the question in me: How much of my suffering and pain is brought on by out-of-control circumstances, and how much of it is the result of my own paranoia, which clutches any sliver of light in my life and dims it?
I refuse to be the victim of my anxiety and depression any longer. In this blog, my goal is to try several healing methods and exercises and document my experience. I will start by altering my thoughts. Whenever I feel a negative inclination or self-deprecating thought enter my mind I will stop and tell myself out-loud the opposite. This will be my first step towards finding inner-peace and making the most joy with the life that I am given. I hope that if anybody else who has been struggling with anxiety or depression comes across my blog, they will find 2 things: 1) they’re not alone. There are so many aching hearts in the world right now, it’s time we start acknowledging those feelings and as a community surround each other with love and support. And 2) I hope that in my journey I will inspire others to join me, to try some of these methods (depending on what works) and maybe, just maybe I can help others who are in my situation as well.
Savannah's Journey 