Re: my ongoing transparency about my ongoing mental health issues— This is like the cheesiest, stupidest, most millennial instagram selfie I could take and it’s also how I feel most of the time, silly, happy, like a snack (literally and figuratively), always down to poke fun at myself. But there’s a flip side to that. The part that is so achingly insecure that I don’t trust anyone or anything around me. I’m Chicken Little and the sky is ALWAYS falling. My friends have been pushing me for months to go back to therapy and my boyfriend has felt helpless trying to make me see myself how he does. I had a counselor once tell me that the worst panic attacks, the most crippling anxiety, comes AFTER the bad thing. You can’t panic while you’re in the middle of saving yourself, your sole goal is self-preservation. But once things have calmed down, your brain totally freaks. My life has never been better than it is right now, and my anxiety has never been worse. It might seem counterintuitive, but it’s true. And I finally realized I can’t just force myself back out of it. And I finally decided that bad men did a lot of bad things to me, but the worst thing they could ever do is take away my ability to have a healthy relationship with a truly good man because I’m too busy beating myself up and assuming the sky has fallen. So I made an appointment to go back to my therapist. I cried a lot. I got scared. I felt embarrassed. But I did it. Being healthy is ONGOING. There’s no cure, there’s no end. There’s just constantly doing the work even when you don’t want to. Even when you wish you didn’t have to. But if half of my days are spent wishing I could be anybody other than me, that I could make my brain STOP, that I could just get it together, it’s time to bring in the reinforcements. And shout outs to my team for always rooting for me.