So, so much has changed since then. I've gotten married to the love of my life. I've started an actual career (not just a job) and just celebrated my seven-year mark with the company. I've seen many of my dancers go off to start the next chapter of their lives at college. I've traveled to some of my favorite places - New York City, the Bahamas, New Orleans, and Salem just to name a few. I've lived through (and am currently still living through) a pandemic. And probably the most notable - I've had my wonderful, beautiful, angel baby - Miss Violet Salem.
It's amazing just how much can change as you look back on the previous chapters of life, and oddly enough, as we are living through those changes, they don't seem as drastic in the moment. There were certain times when the shifts were more noticeable than others, but you sort of ride the ebbs and flows of life as they come and go. There aren't many definitive "moments" where you sit and think "everything has changed."
But, there are some moments like that, and I've had quite a few of those moments in recent months. Having a baby was something that my husband and I planned, but I was incredibly unprepared for the emotional journey that would unfold roughly 8 months after Violet arrived.
I've written about my anxiety in the past - in this very blog, actually. Back in 2010, I experienced what I refer to as my first "anxious spell" where anxiety really dictated my day-to-day life. Back then, I was trapped in my mind, which constantly swirled with medical diagnoses and a seemingly relentless reminder of my own mortality. I was Googling my symptoms constantly, driving myself further into a rabbit hole of constant panic, worry, fear, and restlessness. My sleeping and appetite were affected, and no matter how hard I tried, I felt as though I couldn't break the cycle of worry > research > panic > breakdown.
I pulled myself out of that hole by getting into running in 2011. What followed was an absolute love affair with a sport that I had previously despised. I was addicted, and I truly look back on those years as some of the best, most confident years of my life. It was around 2014/2015 that I kind of "fell off the wagon" in terms of exercise in general, and when I picked back up again in 2018, I fell for cycling.
The love affair was quite similar, and I was completely hooked on attending spin classes sometimes 5-7 times a week. Again, I had never looked or felt better, and I was able to handle some pretty stressful scenarios with surprising grace during my "spin addict" days.
2020 obviously changed things, but the introduction of a Peloton into our home helped me stay in shape. When 2021 rolled around, I found out I was pregnant in October, and exercise took an obvious slide. I tried to stay pretty active while pregnant, and while I was able to keep that up for the first 5 months of my pregnancy, I got Covid at the end of March. Covid combined with the general discomfort of pregnancy on my relatively small frame made exercise damn near impossible, so I began to live a pretty sedentary lifestyle for the first time in a very long time.
After Violet was born, I certainly noticed my anxiety was heightened, but I hadn't reached a level of true "concern" just yet. After all, I was a new mom and I knew I had anxious tendencies. I wrote off most of the worrying as normal (even though I had fallen back into the trap of Googling every single thought that crossed my mind). It wasn't until I had woken up in the middle of the night in late January slammed with panic that I realized something was different. It felt eerily similar to how I had felt back in 2010, and I was not loving the nostalgia.
I got an emergency visit with my OB, and she prescribed me Zoloft, told me it was most certainly postpartum, and that we would get me feeling back to myself. I took 2 doses of Zoloft and ended up in the emergency room suffering from quite possibly the worst panic attack I'd ever had (I thought I was having a heart attack, and I drove myself to the ER in an ice storm at 5:30 in the morning... yeah, it was pretty bad). I discontinued the Zoloft and had a rocky couple of weeks. When I emailed my OB again to say that I still wasn't feeling like myself, she wrote in a script for Lexapro. 5 days after the Lexapro, I was back in the ER, this time checking myself into the behavioral health facility for 3 days of inpatient therapy/supervision because clearly my doctor's were just throwing random SSRIs at me (which did NOT agree with me) and I needed the help of an actual mental health professional. After calling multiple therapists and being told the wait was 7+ months, I felt like the ER was my only choice.
I'm glad I went.
Three days away from my family was not fun, and a behavioral health facility is not the Ritz-Carlton by any means, but I was able to see a psychiatrist right away who started me on a medication that would help my sleep and improve my appetite. I also was able to find a therapist that specialized in OCD and anxiety, and got an appointment set up with her for 2 weeks after I checked out of the hospital.
While this all went down about 3 months ago, I still continue to navigate waves of highs and lows. I can confidently say I am in a much, much better place than I was in February when every day I felt scared, alone, uncertain, and hopeless. It's unbelievable to know that people can feel that way even when they are surrounded by a SEA of love, support, happiness, and positivity, but anxiety and depression rob you of your ability to reason and rationalize. There were some days when all I wanted to do was feel normal and happy, and I just couldn't. I loved my life so much, and it felt so unfair that I would be sitting on the couch with my husband as the baby slept beautifully, watching our favorite TV shows, and my heart would be beating out of my chest as my mind raced thinking about how I had no appetite, wouldn't be able to sleep, and tricked my into thinking this was how I would feel forever.
Horrifying, and yet I learned that so many women go through this.
I started to run about 2.5 weeks ago in an attempt to really pull myself over the hump of recovery. I have certainly had many more good days than bad, and now I think I'd even consider my "bad days" as "good days" when I look back on how bad the initial bad days were. I know I'm making progress even though I struggle to see it sometimes, and when I looked around and realized that I was doing a lot of self-deprecating, I knew something had to change.
I thought back on when I felt the most confident, strong, and empowered, and there was one thing that really was a staple in my life during those times - consistent cardio. Whether it was during my running days or my spinning days, I was exercising typically five times a week. And while this would have been difficult to accomplish as I was just healing from delivery, I'm now almost a year out from giving birth. My body is capable again, so it felt like the right time to introduce exercise back into my routine.
Writing has always been an outlet for me, and I enjoy documenting my "journeys" - this one being no exception. I hope that as I continue to stick with this and continue down the path of recovering from postpartum anxiety, someone will read this and it will resonate with them. Maybe this will help to give someone a little nudge in the right direction, because honestly, the "nudge" for me came after going back and reading my initial post talking about how running helped me recover from anxiety the first time.
So cheers to realizing sometimes our biggest hurdle is our own mind, and then simultaneously realizing our greatest power is also our own mind. I know that I am not alone on this journey, I never have been, and that there is a light at the end of this tunnel. And now, I'm getting there even faster thanks to some good old fashioned pavement pounding <3.
Keep Running,
Kel