This marathon meant so much to me because in crossing the finish line, I left behind who I had been, and walked into who I wanted to be. I left behind depression.
It’s World Mental Health Day, and it’s time I share my story. #WMHD
Eight months prior to this photo, I was depressed. (But this isn’t a story about running.)
Two years prior to this photo marked the first time I went unmedicated through depression.
I had been on medication once before. The medication changed how my brain worked, and I would become aware of doing something after having done it.
I knew through depression I couldn’t control my mood. But I learned through medication that I at the very, very least was in control of my actions. And the medication took that control away from me. So I, for my own mental health, needed to get off of them.
My biggest fear was that I would hurt someone by accident, and realize I had done it only afterwards. At least when I felt shitty all the time, I could think through and choose what I wanted to do, before I’d done it.
I had taken medication for depression as a minor.
And I had been told that if that particular medication didn’t work for me, there were no other safe options for people my age.
When depression hit the second time, I was so scared of brain-changing drugs that I never considered them. Feeling stuck in a cycle of awful thoughts and a perpetually-exhausted body felt better to me at the time then losing the last control I felt I had: my actions.
“I’m fat. This sucks. What am I going to do with my life? I hate this. I’m exhausted. Why am I so broken? Just DO something. ANYTHING. Why the hell are you so lazy?”
My mind was circling on these every waking moment.
There was a pause in them any time something good would happen, for a moment. Then I’d feel guilt about, if I could feel happy, why couldn’t I make that happen all the time so I could go out for walks with the people trying to help me? Or get off the couch once or twice in a while?
I went to my Doctor, who ran blood tests to see if anything was off. They all came back “fine”. I hated that appointment. Don’t tell me everything is fine.
I felt alone.
So I started harassing Doctor Google.
“What makes you feel bad? What makes you feel better? Why am I so exhausted all the time? How can I stop being so lazy? Why do I feel unmotivated all the time?”
I must have logged 100 hours. And then I found this weird-ass post talking about Spirulina.
It was some weird algae powder, and it was apparently loaded in a million different energizing nutrients.
Feeling so shitty must have been bad. Because I started drinking that stuff by the tablespoon.
I was desperate. And desperation doesn’t mind the taste of swamp-bitter-thick-water.
To my surprise, I did start to feel a little more energy.
So I double downed my efforts. TWO tablespoons! Three!
This was the very first time that I noticed how one change could make a difference.
When I was depressed, just having the depression release its hold on me a TINY bit, for even a moment, was rejuvinating.
And actually being able to CONTROL that change, well, that was pure exhilaration.
I spent months and months and months googling natural stuff.
Now I wanted to know why it worked.
How this was happening.
What else could help.
I LOVED the information I was finding. I would share it with friends and family. “Did you know this might be able to help with x?!”
I needed more. It was an obsession.
I was still exhausted in the mornings. But by the end of the day, usually the late evening, something would awaken in me and I’d wild-eyed Google for a bit.
(And then finally find it was 2 am)
I found a school that could teach everything I wanted to know.
And I got everything together they needed, and applied, in a flash of movement, flurry and action. I went to application meetings. And I got a ‘health plan’ made for me by a graduating Holistic Nutritionist. I NEEDED to be there.
And I got in.
I sat in the front row every day. After school, I re-read every note I’d made. Never before had I taken home homework and actually done it.
But the moment I got home I’d dive into my notes. I wrote fun facts in the margins. I starred and highlighted things for people I loved.
I’d often find myself completely surrounded in papers and textbooks and reading, while sitting on the floor. I was sitting on the floor like a ball gown model but instead of a fluffy dress surrounding me, I was surrounded by papers and books and notes on all sides.
And I didn’t stop at notes.
I tried out everything I possibly could on myself, so I could understand my own depression.
I was into health food stores damn-near every day. And I tried powders and pills and foods and organics.
I was testing out recipes and cooking in brand new ways, and turfing out toxic makeup and changing household cleaners.
All the while, I was working nights and weekends, and I was spending most other waking hours just punching down and in new information.
Four months in to trying everything out on myself, I noticed a sign at work near the punch-in station I hadn’t seen before: a marathon sign up sheet.
Something in me felt so yearning, so dreamy, so driven, and so much like I was in the exact perfect moment I was meant to be.
I promised myself, if I could get out for a run of any size this week, then I’d sign up for the race next week.
Turns out I did get out for that run. And then I signed up.
And thus committed to many, many more runs in preparation for a full, 42.2 km race.
I was now working weekends and evenings. In school full time during the day. Absorbing everything about health I could find. Training 4+ days a week on a range of short burst runs, to hill training runs, to long distance runs. And I helped plan my sister’s wedding in a range of site visits, sent photos and phone calls.
My grandmother thought I was nuts, “why don’t you just take it easy?”
I was just beginning.
I had felt shit for SO long that my dreams had formed a bottleneck. They never got out, until they could (because I was feeling good!), and then they all rammed out at once.
I finished the marathon.
And when I crossed the finish line I cried my heart out. And quickly came to notice my lungs spasmed, so I should hold off on crying until later.
But bigger than the race, I’d left behind the depressed me.
I knew this was my new beginning.
Everything was possible.
Nutrition saved my life.
But it was the sponge-like absorbing of it constantly that allowed me to feel my best.
One step at a time is incredibly important for people battling depression. But knowing there is a next step, and learning what it is and why it will work is mentally important, too.
I took a hundred natural steps once I realized food could work. I changed everything. Heck, it even became my profession.
But if you don’t have the time for that, then I would love to guide you. To tell you what’s next. To celebrate each step you take. And to cheers every time you sign up for a goal that your heart has been calling for.
What I know about depression now is this: it must be fierce-ass people who struggle with it. And the most capable, gorgeous souls with big hearts and huge dreams.
And once you start feeling better from depression. Once you feel up on your feet again.
My gosh, will you do amazing things.
You are meant to live your dreams. That’s what I think, anyway.
And underneath all of the feeling awful, I know you can.
And you probably know you can, too.
I am sending so many heaps of love your way.
Would you like some help from someone who gets it? I would be honoured to help you with depression. Get in touch with me here.
You’re strong. You are courageous. You’re enough.
Love,
Nathalie
Holistic Nutritionist at Glow Nutritional Consulting
Do you have questions, comments or a story you’d love to share? I’d love to read it in the comments. XO