Inside my metaphorical tool box
Originally published October 3rd, 2024
Hey there,
Saying hello from my standup desk in my new feng shui home office. I hope my jump-scare approach to writing and sending these newsletters keeps you on your toes.
I’ve been talking to my niece a lot about fall. She’s abundantly curious and asks endless ‘whys’ after you explain just about anything.
“Why do the leaves change?”
“Why do some turn yellow? Why do some turn red?”
“Why do some leaves change faster than others?”
It’s poetic to experience the seasons through the eyes of someone just now trying to understand them for the first time. A true reminder that before all the noise and clutter change our brain chemistry, we experience the world with genuine awe. Magic. And really, aren’t seasons just the earth’s physical manifestation of change? Shouldn’t we be changing right alongside the leaves?
I am so thankful for the version of me a year ago who was willing to embrace change. So often, I think we look back at versions of ourselves that were *down bad* and feel pity. I’m starting to look back with admiration. I think that maybe we’re best at adapting to change when we feel like we have no other choice. That’s when the tools that are always available to us suddenly make themselves abundantly obvious.
I used to think I couldn’t survive without weekly talk therapy. It felt like my only sacred place of Truth. And honestly, for a long time, it was. Until February, when my therapist said, “do you know I’ll still be here even if you think it’s time to take a break?” We had been tip-toeing the idea of a break for months. I deeply assumed if we took a break, maybe I would break.
I haven’t been to talk therapy in about seven months. Confirming I am not broken.
In August of last year, I started my journey with SSRIs. Without exaggerating, I credit my Lexapro prescription with helping my body properly process stress for the first time in my life. It helped stabilize my physical being in a time of ample need. What a gift.
An interesting side effect of being on SSRIs while also being an oversharer has been my experience of becoming a poster child for their use. I’ve had friends tell other friends who were considering them to reach out to me. Get my input and share my experience.
I’ve had other friends feel comfortable telling me how overprescribed these type of medications are. Digging deep to pinpoint a side effect I’m experiencing to prove the philosophy that they aren’t worth it.
I’m almost completely weaned off my prescription. No easy feat. During this stage of my healing, as I share with those around me a new dialogue has entered the chat: So they didn’t work?
No, I’m getting off my SSRIs because they worked so well. Like the hammer you used to decorate the walls of your new home that you safely tuck away when things look and feel the way you want them to.
Things are looking and feeling the way I want them to.
I’ve learned that if we never try a new way of fixing a problem, we’ll never know if that tool works. And if we never try putting the tool away, we’ll never know if it should permanently live out of the box.
I’m so thankful I didn’t let societal shame, misdirected assumptions, and medical folklore stop me from approaching tools that saved my life. Now I have an entire arsenal I can take out the next time I need them. Which, I’m certain I will. Because just like the seasons, life changes.
Thank God for that.
Other tools in my metaphorical toolbox:
Acupuncture: I go every other week and it brings stillness back to my nervous system in a wonderful way.
Hot yoga: So hot that you physically can’t think of anything else.
Cold plunge: I hate to be the one to tell you this but all the wellness girlies on Instagram are just simply…. Right.
Journaling: Both the public one you’re reading here and the private one that gets 30 minutes of my brain everyday.
Meditation: I keep a habit tracker (obsessive? You decide) and there is direct correlation between the strength of my anxious thoughts and my consistency with meditation.
If you need me, I'll be here (doing a bunch of hot girl health shit),
— Shelby