Five-year Goals

A few months ago, I was in a small group of people who, through the pandemic, became friends. We lifted each other up when we were feeling down, became accountability partners and encouraged each other to go after their dreams.

We made vision boards and shared them with each other because it’s a well-known theory if you put something out into the universe, it will manifest. I hadn’t made one before but thought it was something that couldn’t really be done wrong. I’ve always had a love of words so most of the things I attached were words, small phrases like “fancy but not too fancy,” “small changes,” “she can,” “I did it,” and other positive words. I included a picture of a large stack of books and a cover someone designed for one of my books that I hope to publish. I put a picture of a piano on there because I’d love to learn to play piano. I had a few other items and thought the board turned out well. I was proud of it. I’m not often proud of myself and even less often do I admit it.

At any rate, I shared my board and was shortly after brought to tears. Someone questioned why I included certain things and asked if it was just thrown together. I cried because I cry a lot. But also because I thought I was among friends, and though some of my dreams may have seemed ridiculous, a vision board isn’t meant to have limits. You are supposed to stretch yourself and imagine yourself doing the unimaginable. I was crushed.

It took me a few weeks after that to hang my board up on my wall. I had convinced myself my dreams were ridiculous. That they didn’t matter. That there was no way I’d achieve any of it anyway. Maybe I won’t ever learn to play piano but I know that is not impossible. I played the flute for 6 years, and though they do not belong to the same family of instruments, I know how to read music.

I’m not sure I’ll ever have a pet monkey or be able to tend a garden properly. But maybe I can. I don’t know. What I know is if I don’t work and don’t start to believe I can do it, I certainly never will. A good friend of mine reminds me of that often – maybe you can or you can’t but if you don’t try, you won’t.

My therapist and I frequently discuss my recurrent episodes of negative self-talk. It’s brutal. I hear one comment that could be a little bit critical and one thought turns into two, then three, then dozens and they don’t stop. I spiral until I’ve talked myself out of anything and everything.

She told me part of what’s holding me back from achieving anything is that I’m too focused on the outcome. I can have dreams. I can speak them into the universe and hope they manifest. But if I focus simply on the outcome, and not the steps I’ll have to take along the way and the things I can do to get there, I’ll never achieve anything. I’m so overcome with a fear of failing that I don’t even try. I’m standing in my own way. No comment from any other person is the reason I can’t do something. My vision board can be covered in things that no one else believes I can do but it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I have to believe I can and I have to try.

In five years, I hope to be a published author. I don’t know if that means I’ve published one book or ten, and it doesn’t at all mean I need to be a best seller. I just want to publish a book. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I was a kid and since then, I’ve always written in some way. I’ve journaled, written poetry, blogged and started a few novels. I write simply because I love to write. And if I never publish, that’s okay. But if I continue to work diligently on this goal, I think it is one I can achieve.

I want to be in healthy relationships with myself and my spouse. I know I have to work on myself first but I cannot neglect my husband either. I cannot sacrifice my marriage to make myself better. I need to be better for myself so I can be a better wife. I don’t know what a healthy relationship with myself looks like but with more therapy and more self-reflection, I hope I will learn what that looks like. If I can’t take care of myself, value myself and love myself, I cannot do those things for a spouse or romantic partner.

The other, larger ambition I have is to open a non-profit mental health clinic. I’ve dealt with depression since the age of 13. I’ve had thoughts of killing myself hundreds of times and have attempted it twice. I’ve suffered from a low self-esteem for even longer. I’ve never truly loved myself. Some days, I don’t even like myself. For almost three decades, this is where I’ve been and it is not a fun place to be in. I don’t want to stay here for another 30 years. I’d love to be out of it sooner rather than later.

I’d love to overcome my depression, or at least make it manageable. I’m currently in weekly therapy and am working with a psychiatrist to find the right medicinal combination. Depression is really difficult to treat because it takes a lot of time, especially when medication is involved. There is no magic way of identifying exactly the right medication. And suspecting I have bi-polar, my doctor is having a more difficult time finding the right combination. The one that will make me feel better, not for a day or two, but long-term.

In the span of eight months, my prescriptions have changed probably ten times, the latest change coming just this week. Most drugs of this type take a few weeks to work if they’re going to and it is frustrating to be on something for a month or longer only to learn it isn’t the right one. Despite the number of times we’ve changed, I cannot put into words how grateful I am that I have a doctor who not only loves a challenge, but one who will not stop trying. This is the first time in my life I’ve had someone who is actively trying to help me. The first time I’ve actually been treated. The therapy I was in as a 20-year-old was minimal, short lived, and not helpful at all. Having dealt with mental illness as long as I have, there is a lot to work through.

My challenge has taught me that the way society treats people with mental illness is lacking. BIG. This is why I want to start a facility. I don’t want anyone else to feel like I do, and certainly not for as long as I have. The problems are plentiful though. Diagnosing and treating mental illness takes a lot of time which equals a lot of money. Insurance is great but it doesn’t pay for everything. And for those without insurance, it’s unaffordable in most cases.

I’ve been able to get through some of my toughest times because I’ve had a support system. Some people don’t have health insurance, some people don’t have a support system and some have neither. I don’t think it’s fair that someone cannot be helped and given the proper support to overcome a mental illness simply because they don’t have money.

People who deal with depression don’t have a program that resembles AA or NA. These organizations have helped numerous people navigate alcoholism and addiction. The meetings are free and available worldwide, and attendees are among peers who truly understand how they feel and what they are dealing with. There is nothing like this for people who battle anxiety, depression, suicidal ideation and other mental illnesses. I strongly believe a support system alone would have a huge positive impact.

I want to build a community that offers free counseling, proper medication management where needed, access to free or low-cost prescriptions, and most of all a group of people who can empathize with others. A community who understands what it’s like to fight an uphill battle every day. A community who knows what it’s like to want to be wanted, to be loved, to be accepted. A place where people can share their stories free of judgement and receive positive support.

I hope that in five years I’ve navigated my way through my own depression and am able to offer this support to others. It’s known and said often you can’t love or help others until you love and are able to help yourself. That sounds like a simple concept but I’m really quick to extend love and a helping hand to others and not so swift to do that same for myself.

I hope in five years I can look back at everything I’ve learned from my therapist, mentors and own experiences that I can be a mentor to someone else. I want to help someone else get through the struggle.

If I do it right, maybe I can be a published author of a book about how to navigate through this disease. Therapists have great knowledge. Medication helps to remedy the chemical imbalance. But true experience can provide knowledge that nothing else can.

Opening a service such as this is a lofty goal, and in five years I’ll be a mother of three teenagers! That’s enough work on its own, I’d imagine. But my hope is that, over the course of the next few years, I will be on the other side of this mountain I’m climbing. Making it to the other side means I’ll be equipped to guide my kids through their own challenges. It means I’ll be a better mother and example to them. They deserve better and so do I.

I know we all made five-year goals in 2015 that we thought got wiped away when the pandemic hit in 2020. But maybe they just got rerouted. I don’t know what will happen over the next five years, or even tomorrow. I do know that I want to do better, be better and live better and that’s where my focus will be, no matter what the universe throws at me.

Junk in the Trunk

When I started therapy almost a year ago, I had no idea what to expect. Aside from seeing a doctor as a child to end my night terrors, the only therapy I’ve had was over twenty years ago and it was in a group setting. I didn’t participate much because no one was forced to share or talk, and I was 20 years old, feeling very alone and didn’t want to exist anymore. The last thing I wanted to do was be vulnerable, especially to strangers.

I imagine the first few visits with a therapist is a little uncomfortable for anyone. Starting therapy while in a pandemic when many doctors’ offices are closed is no different. The first time I spoke to my therapist, we were on the phone for nearly an hour and I felt like I could have talked to her forever. But I don’t think it was until 6 or 8 months into treatment that I stopped experiencing anxiety in the couple hours before a session.

While doing therapy via video chat has its advantages – no driving to and from appointments, no need to get dressed (though I do) – it also has its disadvantages. One of them, because of quarantine, is the lack of privacy. Everyone is home and it makes finding a quiet place to be alone difficult.

I initially drove to a nearby parking lot where I could be alone and soak in a little sun at the same time. But that ended after a few weeks because of the interruptions in the internet service. My therapist kindly reminded me that our time together is valuable and that I deserve to be able to use all 60 minutes. She requested that I stay home for sessions where the internet is more reliable. While that is true, again, finding a place where I’d be undisturbed was still a challenge.

Because it was summer time, I elected to start doing my sessions in the garage. I’d set up a workspace last spring to attend a virtual writing workshop. I had a table with a neutral-colored blanket spread across the top, a recliner that we no longer use in the house and a nice view of the outside. This worked great for a while. But nice weather meant kids running in and out causing frequent interruptions.

When this space was no longer the best option, I began doing sessions from the back of my car. This is less than ideal but it wasn’t much different than my parking lot sessions, only now I was tucked in the space between the back seat and rear door instead of in the front seat. By this time, fall was near and the temperature was just beginning to go down. Having the option to be “inside” meant I could stay warm but also be in a private space. I was able to plug in my laptop using an extension cord and most times I’m not interrupted.

The back of my van quickly became my safe space and I made the joke to my therapist that I was leaving the “junk in the trunk.” She chuckled a bit but it’s also fitting.

While the topics discussed in therapy aren’t junk, it’s a good place to sort through the clutter that’s filling the mind. Several years ago, I wrote a piece about finding a box in my closet full of tangled up wires. You know when you plug in various things to your TV and though you don’t crisscross or tie the cords together, they ultimately end up that way? The same thing happens if you put them in a box. How does this happen??

Anyway, I often imagine if I could see inside my brain, I would find a similar situation. There’s a lot going on and often times it doesn’t all make sense. What I’ve learned from working with my therapist and my mentor is that we can begin to untangle this mess we feel we’re trapped in one step at a time.

Rather than looking at the big messy pile as one big wad of confusion, frustration and turmoil, we can examine each component separately. We can grab onto one end of one element and treat it with great care and compassion, as though it’s the only thing troubling us. Doing this piece by piece, the once seemingly endless pile becomes smaller and smaller. Sure, other complications will arise and maybe the mess will never be obsolete. But getting it to a point where it’s manageable, rather than nonexistent, is the goal.

A crucial part of being able to manage the mess is recognizing our own role in its accumulation. I learned early in therapy and my mentor program that the things I consider to be monumental and defeating are, in fact, not so uncommon and not as powerful as I’m allowing them to be. We will always be faced with situations and challenges that are out of our control. But each one is an opportunity to learn, grow and use the tools we’ve been given to overcome it. Personal contributions to the mess could be paralleled to that of our successes. Nothing is handed to us. It doesn’t matter who our parents are, where we went to school, what clothes we wear, etc. To achieve anything, we have to put in some work.

I’ve learned I often don’t embrace opportunities because I’m scared of failing. Whether or not I do is not up to me. What is up to me is taking a chance, trying and doing my best. A few months ago, I was presented with two new opportunities at work – a leadership program and a mentorship program. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do either. I was recommended for the leadership program the previous year and was not accepted. I wasn’t ready to be rejected again, let alone twice. I sought advice from a friend who said this – I don’t know if you’ll get accepted or not but I do know if you don’t apply, you definitely won’t.

I applied to both. I was not accepted to either. And then I moved on. It was a bit of a disappointment but knowing I tried and offered the best of myself by giving the most honest answers I could to the questions I was asked was its own success, and that was all I could do.

I’ve also learned my own resistance makes any situation much worse than it is. No one wants to feel pain, sadness, frustration, or any other negative emotion. But trying to fight off the negativity often does the opposite of what we desire. Instead of getting rid of it, it multiplies. If we can accept the negative emotion, recognize its cause and in an objective manner decide what to do about it, we’ll find ourselves to be more at peace.

This idea is not any different than the concept described in The Secret by Rhonda Byrne when she says "If you can think about what you want in your mind, and make that your dominant thought, you will bring it into your life." Think of when you get a new car, or want a new car, and suddenly, everywhere you go, you see that kind of car. The same idea is shared in the Bible in Matthew 15:17 – “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body?” The lesson is taught in Buddhism as “The mind is everything. What you think, you become.” And you can find dozens of other teachings that provide the same lesson – whatever we’re putting our energy into is what’s going to thrive.

I’ve spent many hours trying to accept this idea because it’s much easier to blame my depression and anxiety. For too long, I’ve gotten away with blaming anything or anyone but myself as the cause for my unhappiness. Yes, I have a clinical diagnosis and some of it is due to a chemical imbalance. But I can decide what to do with it. I can choose to let it overpower me or I can take the power back. I can use the tools I’ve been given and make my adversary small. I can choose to carry around the frustrations, give into the negative thinking and spiral out of control, or I can welcome it as it comes, accept its presence and then move on. I can proceed without it. I can leave the junk in the trunk.