Living and Learning Amidst the Trickery of a Brain.

Since my last post, some things have changed, progressed in some ways and retreated in others. The life I was living in Ayora with my daily tasks in the field and in the mill searching for ways that showed me food sovereignty was an important element to the organization UNOPAC and the community itself, came to an end. I had not expected to ever leave the town early, before I was supposed to. Nearing the end of February I was overcome with feelings I cold not manage alone. Having experienced my first ever connection to my own suffering mind about 4 years ago, I knew I needed to make changes to my lifestyle.
I have never exactly been open about my own inner struggles, but perhaps it is time that I put it out there; in a sphere that can be read by whomever chooses without facing the audience directly. At the age of 18-years-old I had found myself feeling different than I ever had: nervous, tired, unmotivated, sad, and unable to control these feelings. While living in residence at Laurier surrounded by some of the best friends a girl could want to have, I wondered how I could feel this way when I was surrounded by fun and great, and kind people. It wasn't until months later that I realized I could have been living in a $4.5 million house in the Swiss alps and I still would have felt the same. For months I pushed myself through it, thinking I was just homesick and uncomfortable in a new city, stressed by my first year of university. For those months I was making things worse without realizing it. Each day that I pushed through without talking about my feelings I dug myself  deeper into the hole of depression in which I found myself lying, unassisted and weak, at the bottom. I spent every waking moment I could with my friends. I read, wrote papers, and even cooked dinner in their apartment to avoid being alone with my thoughts which I knew were slowly destructing me. Eventually exam time came and I had gone home to study, realizing that I wasn't doing any studying at all. Hour after hour I sat at home consumed in my thoughts and feelings, wondering how I would manage another semester the way I did the previous one. I was scared, and overwhelmed. Finally, an afternoon came where I set my books aside and explained what I was dealing with to my mom, whom I had spent many nights phoning from residence just to have someone to cry to. Of course, I have the best mom in the world for being brave while I was scared, telling me things would change even though it was hard to see it then, and eventually, after my exams, helping me move my life from Laurier back to home. I am sure she was scared it might have been the wrong decision to allow me to drop out of school, but she believed in me and took a chance. Always wanting me to be happy above anything else. Although I wanted to leave school so that those feelings I had could stop, I immediately began to feel overwhelmed and frustrated with myself for being "weak" and not being able to deal with this, angry at myself for "failing" and most of all crushed that I was leaving behind people that I loved  who would carry on their university careers together, afraid they would forget me and I would no longer fit in to our group of friends.
My life then consisted of dealing with the realization that I was depressed and the stigma embedded in it, explaining it to my friends and hoping they would understand, and trying to find purpose. Many days would pass where I couldn't think of anything worthwhile getting out of bed for, or I would sit eating dinner with my family around me only to need to leave so that I could cry, never really knowing why I was crying and so upset. I remember one day specifically where I sat in my living room crying and pulling at my hair, feeling like I was going crazy. My heart was beating quickly and when I removed my hands from my face I felt an indescribable feeling. I felt as if gravity was pushing against me, the air in the room was slowly being sucked out, the walls and the ceiling were crowding me, there was no space left for me which left me feeling what I can only assume it feels like to drown. I tried to breathe and eventually went outside into the cold winter weather where everything suddenly became better. I have always considered that moment the lowest of my lows where I couldn't seem to find a way out of my own mind. I did, of course, I opened a door and left, the same way one normally leaves something. That realization made me feel normal, the most normal I had felt in a long time.
For 2 or 2.5 years I took medication to help my body produce more serotonin so that when the serotonin worked to passed into my brain, more of it would flow straight in instead of not being able to make the full trip. This made me feel better in general, although there were still days when I felt as if I hadn't taken any medication at all. I began to do things, real things with purpose. I traveled to England with a best friend to visit my sister, I became the care giver of my two favourite little girls a few times a week while their parents were at work, and eventually I began to look into my future by researching schools. This allowed me to open my eye to new places and experiences, to give and accept love, and take control of my future.  At 20-years-old I returned to school, this time closer to home but a place where I felt more productive studying something I am truly passionate about in a program that's one of a kind. I stopped taking my medication slowly and for my first 2 years of university I did not need it nor feel like I needed any assistance.  This year, living and studying in Ecuador, I feared that I might find myself trapped in that hole again. I wanted the experience and thus, I took the chance. For months (the first 6 in fact) I felt great. I was comfortable and enjoying my time in a new country doing things most don't get the chance to do, seeing things that could be gone in a few years time. However, just a month ago I began to feel things while living away at my placement that I knew all too well. I didn't know where they came from and couldn't explain it. For days I dealt with it, telling myself with each passing day I would begin to feel better. As time progressed and things got worse I realized that the struggles I had endured with my mental health in the past were likely something I will deal with through intervals throughout my life. And I knew I needed to find someone to help me.
The result has been that I am suffering from anxiety and panic attacks. This was a new type of struggle for me and something I have had to learn to deal with differently, especially at this critical time where I am amidst my involvement in a very important volunteer placement to secure my completion of this year abroad program. Days of no motivation are met with nervous and anxious feelings of everything ranging from tomorrow and what it will hold, to figuring out my research, to finishing out my placement at a new place. I began working on an organic farm just outside the city of Quito where I am living once again. The farm produces mainly for the "Canastas" program. The owners used to sell in ferias (markets within the city) but there was too much uncertainty about profit so they began their Canastas system. Each week they assemble baskets for their regular buyers of whatever fruits ad vegetables are ready to be picked that week. All products are grown organically sold at a set price of $5/basket. The idea is to cut out the middle man by linking buyer with producer directly. In this way there is more communication about sustainable harvesting as well about demand, satisfaction, and prices. The work is more than interesting for me and allows me to continue to notice elements of food sovereignty but in new and different ways. I find it hard making daily trips to the farm. I find it hard concentrating on work and my research when my mind shifts to everything but that. I find it hard to minimize my anxiety when it sets in and to block it out all together. However, I am trying my very hardest to work through it without pushing myself back into another hole that is far too deep to climb out of. I see a day where I am managing much better, and I know there will be a day when I can wean off medication again and get back to being the best me I can be. I am sure another time in my life will come where I feel the lows of depression or the shaking, fast beating heart and feelings of anxiety but after my last experience and certainly after this one (dealing while in a foreign place, new language, away from family) I am more confident than ever that I can continue being Emily. Although I sometimes feel like I am going crazy, there is nothing better than knowing that I have support, that I have the will power to continue to learn, to continue to help, to continue to be passionate and an activist, continue to snowboard, listen to music, travel, camp, eat, love, and smile. Life goes on.