Three days, nine hours, and thirty six minutes...
Three Days, Nine Hours, & Thirty Six Minutes
By: Deanna James
Three days, nine hours, and thirty six minutes...That’s how long it took me to finally start writing this article since I was asked to do it.
As anyone who has followed my Instagram for more than a couple months, you might know by now that a big part of what I talk about on social media is mental health. I’ve learned so much about coping mechanisms because most of 2017 I thought my life was either ending, or this unknown sickness that came out of no where would want me to end it myself.
Keeping the story as short as possible, in February of 2017, I woke up one day out of the blue, feeling quite off. I slightly felt like I was on a rocking boat, and had a weird trembling throughout my whole body that was felt and could be seen in my shaking thumb as I hovered it over my phone screen, or when I used any muscles.
As three days went by, I realized that this wasn’t something that was going away.
“Is this the start of something that could get worse? Will my hands start trembling more to the point I can’t tattoo, or draw? If this is neurological, could it be something serious that could kill me?” The fear I had made me sicker than the sickness itself. As my health deteriorated, I was getting ill in some shape or form every other week. At this point, I had no idea that the fear in my body was releasing enough cortisol to make me feel as horrible as I was. I thought my life was ending. I told my assistant to stop booking me appointments, and I stayed with my parents for a little bit.
I was white-knuckling through months after this started, going to every type of doctor imaginable and getting every test done possible. MRI’s that were once up to an hour and fifteen minutes, skin biopsies (hole punching a piece of my skin on different parts of my body, an EEG (where my brain was hooked up to chords for three days while my sleep pattern was recorded), seizure tests, every blood test possible... I went to spine specialists, rheumatologist, ENT, and even a functional medicine doctor.
I was getting let down left and right. No one could figure out what was wrong with me. For someone who went through so much therapy dealing with my fear of death and sickness growing up, this was my biggest fear. What was worse, no one could help me. I was feeling hopeless, terrified, and alone. Towards the end of the year, one doctor (for an entire month) told me she was pretty sure I had MS until my test came back negative. At this point, I was more afraid of getting to a point where I would want to die than dying from whatever this mystery case was.
Because of a year of extreme stress and depression, my eyesight was getting worse (I got an astigmatism), I got Tinnitus and bad TMJ from grinding my teeth, and my body was always cold and dry from dehydration. I had gotten to my rock bottom and came to the most important conclusion of my life. I can’t control everything, but I can control how I react and manage.
After enough people telling me that it could just be my anxiety, I knew it wasn’t, but I had no other option other than to learn how to be ok and manage my mental health. (Side note, the end of 2017 I decided to go on Ink Master for a last attempt to get myself and artwork out there for however much time I had left... also one of the hardest things I could do in the hardest time in my life, and ended up being very much worth it).
I downloaded an app called “Headspace” and meditated 15-30 minutes a day. I learned to not judge my thoughts, to just acknowledge them, and go back to focusing on positive things. I learned to use my senses wherever I am to be more present. For example, when I’m driving, I try to appreciate how the sky looks, or feel the texture of the steering wheel on my hands. I figured out small things that bring me joy like singing to music, playing guitar, and started running to help release endorphins.
Unfortunately until this day, I still feel like I’m in a rocking boat and trembly 24/7, no one was able to figure out why, but it’s my new normal I’m fairly used to it. Amazingly enough, since i calmed down, I’ve had less added health problems, my eyes stopped getting worse, and my jaw hurts less! From that, i realized I need to appreciate what I do have. I can breathe, run, smile, draw, and love passionately. I also realize that everyone has their own shit they are going through and a lot have it way worse than me. It’s also put into perspective what’s most important, and to not freak out over the small things.
It sucks that it took a life and death scenario to have an “awakening”, but I’m so thankful for it because now I can share what I’ve learned to people I love, and anyone who needs help. I now can use my social media platform for good.
This isn’t to say that I’m happy 100% of the time and that I have it all figured out. I still struggle; but I know that I’m not alone. I’m sharing this because I think that telling my story to help other people feel less alone, can be just as helpful as sharing coping methods. Especially someone like me who some see in any way shape or form “successful”.
This took three days, nine hours, and thirty six minutes to finally start writing because I’m a bit sad and unmotivated about the pandemic and all the people who are suffering from it; But on the other hand, I decided to not punish myself for taking this long. It’s ok to not be ok sometimes, especially during a pandemic. Just don’t ever give up on working on yourself, because the world would be way worse without you.
