Mental Health Awareness

Mental health has been a rising issue this past decade and it continues to keep growing. It is becoming a bigger issue than anyone can imagine, with social media being a huge part in influencing kids, teenagers and even adults. But mental health can also go back to a child's past and their experiences with their parents or maybe something traumatic happened that follows them into adulthood. There are a million reasons why someone can be diagnosed with mental illness and many people don't ever get cured. To me, travel and fitness have helped a lot.

I went through depression in my late teenage years and have been slowly getting better until this previous month - I felt like everything came crashing down and feelings from the past came back but a million times worse. It's been over a month since I've been able to write again and open up this blog. It's been one of the hardest months I've had to go through and am still going through. This post is going to be about my thoughts and my actions. I want to talk about my own mental health and how it has been affecting me lately.

Back in December, I had to go home to Toronto for an emergency. I remember that day so clearly - I fell to the ground in the middle of a mall with one of my girlfriends, stopping by from a road trip we had just gotten back from. I can honestly say I have never dropped to the ground while hearing bad news before. This was the first time I felt completely hopeless. I didn't think it was real. I didn't want to believe it was real. We got back to my apartment; I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't even think. Tears kept falling and I didn't know how to stop. My friend had committed suicide. I talked to him every single day and we made these huge plans to travel, see the world and raise mental health awareness. He was going to be a big part of this blog and soon enough start a vlog about travel and depression. He was supposed to meet me out here in Australia and shoot our first video together. I remember he wanted us to be sitting in a car, he would introduce me while driving to our first destination somewhere in Australia and we would just be talking about us and our dreams. I remember how excited he would get everytime we thought of a new idea and how he would start counting down the days, "just a few more months," he would say, "I just gotta make it on the plane."

He asked me if I can be his person, that person he could count on to always be there and never give up on him. His person that puts him in check whenever he's being unreasonable or thinking crazy thoughts, that person that would remember things he would say because he couldn't and to be that person, just that person, HIS person. I don't know if I failed at being his person, I don't even know what happened that day but he never called. I called over and over again but he never answered. I wasn't there when he needed me the most. Why didn't he call? Why didn't he talk to me first? Instead of him coming here for a visit, I was the one who booked a flight back to Toronto the next day to see him for the very last time. I packed my things and drank all night. I sat on the couch until the sun rose the next morning, still waiting for his call, hoping that day wasn't real and that it was all a dream. After that, everything became a blur. I had a flight to catch at 9am, had two layovers and finally made it back to Toronto. I continued drinking on the plane, during my layovers at the airport bars and went straight to another bar once my friends picked me up from Toronto Pearson Airport. I think I fell asleep for a couple of hours before waking up and driving 3hrs to Windsor, Ontario for the funeral. We grew up in Windsor, that small little city across the border from Detroit, Michigan. That small little city I ran away from when I was 19. I haven't been there in almost a year and I remember how it felt so nostalgic when my bestfriend and I were cruising along the riverside in her car, gazing at the lights from the Detroit skyline to the bright lights shining from Caesars Windsor Casino. I wasn't supposed to be there. This wasn't part of my plan.

I was back home for 17 days and I wasn't sober for any longer than 12 hours. I had to go back to text messages so I would remember what I did the previous day. I would be having a conversation with someone and forget what we talked about five minutes later. Someone would be talking to me and I wouldn't hear them or I would doze off into space, not listening. The alcohol and drugs made me numb to being able to feel, they made me forget about reality and made the come down 10x worse. I would drink to forget about the world and to not feel any emotion. I did multiple types of drugs to make me feel calm and happy. Once I started to feel any type of way, I would automatically start looking for a drink. I would go from one extreme to the other; from hysterically laughing to uncontrollable tears. I started getting anxiety whenever I was around a big crowd of people so I skipped out on all Christmas and New Years parties with my family. My friends ended up dragging me out on New Years to a party full of people I didn't know. I remember hiding out in the bathroom a couple of times just to calm down or grabbing my friend's arm and telling him not to let go. We got back to my friend's place after the party and I broke down outside in the freezing cold. I remember him trying to calm me down but I couldn't. It felt like we were out there forever. After that night I told myself I was done drinking and thats where all my emotions came out. I was back to reality and it was finally hitting me, HARD. Whenever I was with a small group of friends or family, I was okay but the moment I was alone is where everything would come crashing down. I was packing up on my last night and my dad came into my room.. he asked, "what's up?" (if you know my dad, you can probably picture him saying this) and I broke down. I was on the floor, crying uncontrollably infront of my dad. I wanted so bad to get up and hug him but I couldn't pick myself up to, I couldn't move. I can see him holding back his tears and there wasn't anything any of us could do. He told me to just stay back but he didn't realize the real reason why I was crying. He stayed until I stopped and once he left, the tears came rushing back. I felt hopeless, afraid and alone.

Now that I'm back in Australia, reality is hitting even harder. When you have an addictive personality, you get addicted to anything that makes you feel good and that is exactly what alcohol and drugs do for me. I don't buy alcohol anymore and drugs are too much of a hassle to get here, so I've resorted to something I have always been passionate about - fitness and health. Although I have always been active, I have never been more addicted to training than I am now. It may be the only thing keeping me sane. I still have trouble getting up in the morning, I still break down all the time and I still struggle to act "normal" on a daily basis. Majority of my family, friends and followers probably think I'm doing okay and am living the dream out here but the truth is, it's harder than it seems. It's a daily battle between me and my mind, telling myself to get up and pushing my body to move. I am constantly searching for something to look forward to because it's the only way to give myself a reason to keep going, a reason to hold on. I don't know how to fully explain the way I feel and maybe that's what mental illness is. It's a feeling only you can feel, something no one understands, even though they say they do but they never really know. It's a feeling so deep and dark that no words can describe your pain. It's scary because it's an easy thing to hide and so many people are afraid to admit that they have a problem. So, here I am sharing with all of you that I am still suffering from depression that arose 10 years ago.

I made myself a promise when I moved out here and will continue to keep them. I promise to get my independence back, I promise to get into the best shape I've ever been in, I promise to try to find happiness within myself and I promise I won't give up. He also made me make him a promise - A promise to keep going for me and I promise to keep going for him. He wanted me to share my story before his and I am going to do just that. Everything I do, I will be thinking of him, with every blog, with every destination I travel to, with every decision I make, I will be doing it for him. This will be the first of many mental health blogs that I post. So, please let me know if there's a certain topic you want me to write about and I will try my best to help.

With this, I want to raise mental health awareness and spread the word through this blog and all of my socials. I want to show people how travel and fitness has helped me. I'm going to share my many stories and hopefully you share yours too! Subscribe and chat with me whenever you need someone to talk to. If you or anyone you know is going through mental illness, please don't be afraid to seek help. You're not alone. I'll be here fighting with you.

Depression and mental illness kills. You never know what people are going through. So, be kind, always.

Until next time,

Hazel Sam

x0

Disclaimer: This blog is from the author's thoughts, opinions and ideas. The experiences told are strictly for the pure purpose of blogging and sharing to the audience. It is not intended to disrespect, offend or resent the readers. It is not to be used as an act of liability or as a legal proof of conduct. By reading this blog you understand there may be some statements that may offend some viewers. This content is for the website, ThroughMyHazelEyes.org only.