With Autumn comes pumpkins, apples, sweaters, and of course, Halloween. The perfect time of year for children to upset their stomachs with too much candy, and for college students to dress up and party with their friends. Here at the Stumble Inn, we are currently in discussion over what our costumes should be. Should we go with a group theme and dress as The Spice Girls? Grease's Pink Ladies? Or do we go our separate ways and pick costumes unique to all of us? Luckily we still have a couple of weeks to decide, but nevertheless, the earlier we pick costumes, the earlier we can DIY and save a few dollars.
Although choosing costumes with the roomies is fun and makes for great conversation, I can't help but think back to Halloween 2013 and the way it changed me as a person forever.
In college you usually have more than one costume during Halloween, considering you usually go to more than one Halloween party. Last year, Halloween fell on a Thursday, so I had a costume for Thursday night and a costume for Friday night. On Thursday I dressed up as a princess, complete with a shiny pink dress, a tiara, and silver heels. On Friday I went a little more outside of my comfort zone and dressed as Barbie, complete with a pink bow and pink tutu (if you haven't detected a theme thus far, my favorite color is pink and I make sure everyone knows it). My costumes were fun and comfortable and made for some great pictures. What I didn't know at the time, was that I wouldn't feel like a princess again for a while.
Although my night as a princess went exactly as planned, my night as Barbie ended with a traumatic event that I was unable to shake. Stress and anxiety set in, my self-esteem lowered, and mental disturbances were ultimately triggered. Shortly after this trauma I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).
Now, if you know me, OCD may not be the first thing that comes to mind. I don't keep things neat and tidy, I don't need my notes in class to be absolutely perfect, and if my socks don't match I probably won't notice. However, it is important to understand that OCD comes in many forms. In my case, it does not come in this easily accessible form of cleanliness. Mine comes in a little bit more of a complex form, one which involves thoughts of disease and death. Although this was a scary time in my life, being a student at The University of Michigan doesn't allow for slacking, and my personality doesn't allow for moping around and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I masked my fears, plastered a smile on my face, and kept on going.
But the year was far from over.
I entered cognitive-behavioral therapy where I was assisted with dealing with my OCD and overcoming the traumatic Halloween event. I was still unable to look at pictures from that night, being around people was extremely difficult, I couldn't discuss the night without tears, and I was unable to fill my mind with images other than those from that night. I was essentially drowning in my own thoughts, barely able to come up for air.
However, as I continued therapy, I began to go through waves of feeling better and feeling worse. I lived my life on these two extremes for months. The trauma I experienced made it difficult for me to form romantic relationships and foster existing friendships. This was difficult for me because people have always been the happiest and most important part of my life. Although I had absolutely amazing support, I wasn't sure my family truly understood what I was going through until I had to turn down a dream job in fear that my mental weaknesses would get in the way of the job responsibilities. I felt as though I was giving up, and I didn't want to let that happen. So I sought other jobs that would allow me to continue my therapy as well as take my mind off of the still-fresh trauma. I ended up accepting a job as an intern for Cosmopolitan Magazine, which I couldn't have been anymore excited about.
Cosmopolitan is a very peppy, sparkly, shiny, and vibrant company. They have recently redirected the aim for their magazine to a theme of empowering women, and at the time, that is exactly what I needed. However, my job was to use peppiness and happiness to sell Cosmo subscriptions, and I realized that I wouldn't yet be able to take off my smile-painted mask just yet. Still stuck in Halloweentown, I kept the mask on and sold the subscriptions.
When the internship had ended (I applied again and was accepted for this term), I realized that it had taken my mind off of my fears, and I was feeling a bit better. Daily activities weren't as difficult, being around people became some-what fun again, and I felt a genuine smile under the painted one starting to emerge. Just when I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, a traffic jam congested my flow.
As my mental disturbances seemed to be lessening, physical ailments took a turn for the worse. As I have mentioned before, I have serious back problems. However, the problems had seemed to escalate from manageable to down-right brutal. Walking became a luxury which I could only handle in small amount. I began to move less and less which led to leaving the house minimally, which made it difficult to keep my OCD at bay. As my back pain (which turned to nerve damage) worsened, my mental disturbances returned, but this time they came with friends. From lack of movement, I developed diagnosed Depression as well. If you have ever experienced chronic mental and physical pain simultaneously, then you know what I am talking about. If you don't, I am not quite sure I can explain it to you. If my mind didn't have me planning how I would walk from point A to point B with the least amount of pain, my mind was absorbed by troubling thoughts due to the OCD and Depression.
Although the pain I was feeling was something I had never experienced before, I tried to keep a brave face, enter another mask. It was summer time at this point and I was enrolled in classes. I had to focus on keeping my grades up, and that's exactly what I did. Once again, I lowered my smile-painted mask, threw myself in to my studies, and kept trying to tell myself that no matter what I was going through, it could always be worse.
As the summer progressed, I ended up accepting a job at Urban Outfitters (a retail company). I was on my feet for 8 hours at a time (looking back this was not my best decision), but being around people seemed to distract me from my real problems.
I continued to tell myself it could always be worse, and just when I couldn't do that anymore, I found out that the only way to fix my back was through surgery. The surgery would take place two weeks before junior year classes were to begin. Although I was scared, I was secretly relieved. I received the surgery, and my physical pain was immediately remedied. My first steps after surgery were better than a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies on a rainy day, better than a musical festival with your best friends, and better than kissing in the rain with the man of your dreams. Although recovery took about 8 weeks, it was well worth it.
As the physical pain subsided, so did my OCD and depression symptoms (also thanks to the therapy I was still receiving). As these ailments seemed to lessen, I seemed to be getting closer and closer to the exit of Halloweentown.
But why should the story end there?
Unfortunately, my body seemed to have taken a liking to the pain medication I was prescribed for recovery after surgery. Being weened off of the medication was an experience like no other. My body was in pain, my head tingled, and Depression (a symptom of drug withdrawal) set in once again. Although this lasted only a couple of weeks, going to class while withdrawing from a drug can be a little time consuming. It was hard to enjoy the beginning of my junior year while I was focused on medication. But once again, I kept telling myself that it could always be worse.
Once I was finally weaned off of the medication, I started to see clearly again. However, looking in the mirror has been an inner-battle to see myself in a positive light, one I will probably fight for a while. I see a girl that gained about 25 pounds due to steroids and cortisone shots for my back, but who I should see (and who I am beginning to see) is a young woman who was strong enough to live in Halloweentown for a year while receiving straight A's (except for that darn Spanish class), work two jobs, throw two birthday parties, write articles for a college magazine, and work as a volunteer research assistant through the university. It is sad that society has trained girls like me to see our appearance as the most significant and most valued aspect of ourselves. Barbie, anyone?
While it takes work for me to see that I am stronger than I was before this, it will also take time for me to become Cheyenne again. Not truly having been myself for almost a year, I will need to reevaluate who I am and who I want to be, taking in to account these new experiences. And this is ok! I have entered a new chapter of my life and I hope it's a page-turner. I am excited to get back to dancing through life rather than analyzing everything I do. I am excited to genuinely smile, sparkle, and shine again. I am excited to run without pain, and more importantly, I am excited to finally be able to think and feel with less pain. Pain is a part of life, just as struggle is, but I can finally see the beginnings of my rainbow after the rain. I still participate in therapy once a week in order to keep my OCD at bay and to continue my healing process.
So here is my challenge for you. Be kind, or go away. Mental Illness is not something to be ashamed of, and it is not something to be joked about. Although you can't see a cast, does not mean that healing isn't taking place. You truly never know what kind of battle the person you pass on the street is fighting. And if you are the one fighting a battle, wearing a mask stuck in Halloweentown pretending to be someone or something you're not, don't let the phenomenon of a personal fable blind you to the fact that you aren't the only one going through something. We all have a story, and I hope that yours will end happily ever after.
Luckily for me, I live in a house right now full of laughter and love. Being with these girls at The Stumble Inn allows me to fully unmask, unwind, and slowly learn how to enjoy life again. And I can't wait to see what Halloween has in store for us this year. All that's left is deciding what color M&M each of us wants to be for our costumes.
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If you have depressive tendencies or thoughts of suicide, get help immediately. You are important, you matter, and someone loves you.
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