A little heavy. A lot relevant.

The topic of Mental Health is pretty uncomfortable. People don’t like to talk about it. And people realllly don’t like to talk about it when it pertains to themselves. So, what am I about to do? Talk about it. Duh.

Currently: I am the happiest and healthiest (physically and mentally) that I’ve ever been. I have been described as self-aware, insightful and reflective. I am overall a happy and positive person; when I feel that daily stressors are becoming overwhelming, I recognize it and I use learned techniques to manage feelings of anxiety. The ability to manage stress, recognize anxiety and acknowledge feeling sad is definitely a skill that most people are not inherently born with. Over the years and as a result of some not-so-jolly experiences, I have learned how to do  those things. I believe these skills are going to be crucial to my success as a Peace Corps volunteer.

Where am I going with this? Well, I had to convince the Peace Corps medical board that the above statements are true. It was not easy.

Two pieces of background information are important to know in order to understand the point of this post.

1.       Prozac (fun fact: 1 in 10 Americans take an anti-depressant)

Here’s what my life was like in 2005: I had great friends. I was the captain of the volleyball team (I was really freaking good at volleyball). My mom and I had this really cute house in Independence, Ohio fully equipped with a so-ugly-he’s-cute bulldog named Rueben. I got really great grades, found a healthy balance between sports, friends and school. I had a side job which gave me money to shop for new clothes every week. I drove a Land Rover Discovery…

Yet I felt sad sometimes. And I didn’t really know why. I would search for concrete reasons to validate these feelings, and when I couldn’t come up with any, I would create them in my head. I was confused and frustrated. When I told my mom about how I was feeling, and the confusion that came with that, she thought that maybe I had a chemical imbalance, so I saw a psychiatrist. I was a 17 year old with a great life and I was seeing a psychiatrist. You better believe I didn’t tell any of my friends about that. After a few sessions, the doctor thought it would be a good idea for me to start taking Prozac. So I did—at age 17 I was now part of the statistic. The medicine alleviated by feelings of sadness, and actually it muted all of my emotions—I felt less sad, yes, but I also felt less happy. It helped me maintain a “neutral” state when it came to my feelings, never awful and never wonderful. I continued to stay on Prozac from mid- 2006 through October 2014.

At first it absolutely helped me and continued to help me during and after my transition into college. It eventually became a regular part of my life. I took Prozac every night before bed for 8 years. The mentality was that “it helped when I needed it and if I don’t continue taking it, I’m going to be sad again”. Well, in October of 2014, I made a bold move: I went to my doctor and said “I don’t want to rely on a happy pill forever if I don’t need to. I feel like I’m in a really great place and maybe I don’t need to take this anymore.” So, I weened off of it, monitoring closely my emotions. I realized that not only did I not feel sad, but I actually felt better. I could focus better, had much more energy; the joyful moments were “Bang! Pow! Awesome!” joyful, while the sad moments were no less manageable than before. It was amazing. Like, this is how normal people feel! Woohoo!

I’ve been off of Prozac since then and haven’t looked back.

2.       Eating Disorder (Eating disorders are a daily struggle for 10 million females and 1 million males in the United States.)

In 2006, as a freshman in college, I was diagnosed with a severe eating disorder. I’m not going to go into the gloomy details now, but to paint a quick picture: I was hospitalized for almost a week, unable to get out of bed for any reason, because my heart rate was unable to be detected. I was malnourished to the point that my heartbeat was so faint, an EKG could not detect it. I was sick. Physically and mentally. I think it’s true that every girl around my age at that time struggles with body image in some capacity (thank you society). My struggle was at the highest and most intense level. I was in treatment for three months, attending at least 3 hours of therapy per day, and returned to campus full time in the Spring of 2007. Since then, I have continued to positively build on my recovery, with very few setbacks along the way. I’m proud to say that now I exercise for joy rather than obligation and I eat whatever the hell I want (except animals because that’s just sad #vegetarian). Last night I ate a grilled cheese sandwich and Doritos for dinner. To put the previous sentence into perspective, I think if my college friends ever saw me eating that for dinner, they would assume it was the Skinny Cow version.

…See ya never, eating disorder—you’re a sick freak!

Fast forward...

December 2014, when it was time to fill out the Peace Corps Medical History Form that accompanied the application. I disclosed that I had been diagnosed with an Eating Disorder in 2006 and graduated from outpatient treatment the same year. I also disclosed that I had been on Prozac up until October of the year I applied. Well, those two disclosures set me up to basically fail out of the Medical Clearance process (don’t worry—I’m leaving to serve in a month, so it’s a happy ending!)…

Once Medical Review started (after I got my invitation to serve—but that’s a whole separate can of worms), my case was immediately flagged. Peace Corps was concerned about my eating disorder history and also the fact that I had been taking an anti-depressant up until recently. I provided them with documentation from my past and current doctors, along with a personal statement explaining that my mental health history should not deter me from serving because I have grown past that and am better for it. To no avail. I was not cleared. I received this generic—but no less heartbreaking—email:

We have reviewed your Health History Form and other medical information you provided. We regret to inform you that we are unable at this time to medically clear you for Peace Corps service. The Peace Corps has medical status eligibility requirements that every applicant must meet. Every applicant must, with reasonable accommodation, have the physical and mental capacity required of a Volunteer to perform the essential functions of the Peace Corps Volunteer assignment for which he or she is otherwise eligible, and be able to complete a tour of service (ordinarily 27 months) without unreasonable disruption due to health problems.

What? Wait, what? You don’t think I have the mental capacity to serve as a PCV? Because I was honest and admitted my past and how I overcame it, my dreams are cut? Stopped dead in their tracks? What?

This leads me to the heart of this post and what I really want to talk about: Why is having a history of mental health so scary? Because I admitted to the Peace Corps that I confronted feelings of sadness and anxiety, and that I elected to enter into eating disorder treatment to halt unhealthy behaviors, I was told that I am not permitted to follow my dreams of living abroad and serving a kids for 27 months. In this case, my willingness to take bold ownership of my feelings, actions and life path has come back to bite me in the ass in the worst way. I decided, that for myself and every other person who has overcome mental health issues: I’m not going to stand for it.

Start minor (but completely valid) vent session:

NEWS FLASH: If you meet a 20-30 year old who claims to have never had a period in his/her life where they were required to deal with frequent feelings of sadness or worry, THEY’RE LYING. Either to themselves or others. These should be the people you flag and question whether or not they have the “mental capacity” to serve in the Peace Corps. These are the types of people who are going to fly abroad with no friends or family, experience poverty first-hand for the first time in their lives, and Flip. The. Hell. Out.

Imagine somebody who has never had to deal with bumps in the road, life situations that cause unbearable stress, or events that leave overpowering sadness in their wake. Is that person going to be equipped with the mindfulness and self-awareness to fly to a foreign country, live in extreme poverty without any support system, and embark on a journey of uncertainty without completely losing their shit? I highly doubt it.

But that person sailed through the Peace Corps medical clearance process without a doubt. Good one.

Minor vent session ended.

Needless to say, I decided to appeal the Peace Corp’s decision to not clear me, which meant I would need to write another personal statement explaining why I feel the decision should be overturned, including evidence to support that I in fact am equipped to serve. The ironic truth is that I feel that I am more equipped that most people to do something like this because of the bumpy road I’ve taken to get here. Treatment taught me how to recognize stressors early and implement techniques to help alleviate feelings of anxiety, worry and sadness. My eating disorder, while awful and terrifying at the time, taught me how to treat and love my body; how to keep myself healthy; how to see beauty in myself and others; and most importantly to understand what it’s like to struggle internally and overcome it. I should be rewarded for that, not punished for it. Am I right?

Below are some phrases from my appeal statement:

• “Writing and logical thinking are tools I use to process through challenges. While I understand that I will be presented with brand new challenges that I have not yet experienced, I feel that I can take what I have learned from my past to help me face the new and the unknown.”
• “My success in facing challenges with a clear, stable mind and without relapse is evidence that I am able to function without antidepressant medication and continue on my current path of mental and emotional stability throughout my service and beyond.”
• “I have learned how to be mindful about my emotions, how to facilitate positive self-talk, and how I interact with others. I have learned how different situations affect me, and how to face challenges in a healthy and controlled way. I have learned to not think in the black and white, and that sometimes ‘one day at a time’ needs to be my focus. I have learned techniques to calm myself down, to manage stress, and to take situations for what they are and move forward.”
• “I feel that my history of an eating disorder and the depression/anxiety that came with that has not set me back at all; instead, it has allowed me to grow strong, self-reflect and has lead me to a position that I am in now: well-prepared for the challenges I will face over the next few years in Mozambique.”

“I request that the Medical Reviewer’s decision be reconsidered and ultimately reversed.”

And it was. A few weeks later I was notified that the decision has been overturned and I would continue to move forward in the medical clearance process. I found out late July that I was officially cleared and set to leave for Mozambique on September 24^th.

I’m proud. I stuck up for myself. My mental health history does not deem me “mentally incapable” of doing anything. I needed these medical reviewers to hear that loud and clear. And they did. I’m grateful for that. Additionally, and more importantly, I needed to ensure that this general untrue perception that “history of depression/anxiety/mental illness” completely incapacitates people forever. I am living, breathing, adventure-loving, math teaching, silly-laughing, dog-loving, kick-ass-at-my-job, PROOF that mental illness can not only be overcome, but it can be a growing and learning opportunity that truly paves the road to success.

Luckily, I convinced the Peace Corps medical reviewers that my case was worth reconsidering, and that I am a great candidate for this journey. I consider that a small win to a much broader problem. When are we going to stop allowing mental health history to put labels on people with permanent Sharpie? In treatment I learned that my past depression does not define me and my identity certainly does not lie in the fact that I suffered from an eating disorder 9 years ago. I am me now: Not perfect by any means, but a perfect fit for Peace Corps service. 

I hope that eventually the topic of mental health can be understood from a perspective that is compassionate and informed, instead of allowing a way to put a label on a person that may never go away.