Introducing: The Pursuit of Harpiness

I will never forget the first time I walked into a psychiatrist’s office. “Congrats, you’re officially a crazy person now”, I told myself.  I was 18 years old, about to embark on a series of national auditions for conservatories, after three months of obsessive ruminations had culminated to a point of pseudo-paralysis.  Despite appearing completely normal on the outside, I was operating almost entirely on auto-pilot, stuck in a thought loop I couldn’t escape.  I didn’t believe my doctor when she told me this was normal (a facet of obsessive compulsive disorder) when I fully believed that I was somehow doing this to myself and should be able to “muscle through it”.  Her recommendation to seek therapy and start taking an SSRI (antidepressant) seemed like the icing on the crazy cake, but in truth, it was just the beginning of my journey into self-awareness, vulnerability, and acceptance. 

Over the years, I came to terms with the fact that my brain worked differently, and as much as I wanted to change that, I learned that my intrusive thoughts did not define me.  But boy, was I still afraid of them!  Distraction became the name of the game: in college, it was naps, Jimmy John’s, and Sex and the City reruns; in Miami, it was boys, auditions, and nightclubs; in Dallas, it was work, emotionally unavailable men, and sauvignon blanc.  Regardless of the successes I’d experienced or the wonderful friendships I’d made, I always floated back down to these deep-seeded feelings of unworthiness and “not enoughness”, convinced that I’d find true happiness after winning “THE job” and finding “THE one”.  

Shortly after I got the Rochester gig, it didn’t take long for me to get itchy feet.  But then the pandemic happened: I found pause, fell in love, laid down my roots… heck, I even joined a church choir and became a yoga teacher!  I felt SO good I told myself I didn’t need my anti-depressants anymore.  By all external measures, I had it all…I was cured!

(famous last words)

Sure enough, one month later after my wedding last May, I found myself in the deepest depression I’d experienced since those fateful highschool years. Even though I was in the most beautiful place (hey, Santa Fe!) playing opera with my amazing new hubby, I was a shell of myself: crying almost every day, waking up in a daily panic, finding it hard to participate in almost anything without extreme stress and imposter syndrome.  My anxiety kept searching for answers while I blamed myself: “get a grip, Grace! If you just did more____(insert wellness variety activity)___you would be fine!” But without the push of my insatiable drive and the neurological support I’d grown accustomed to, I simply didn’t know how to move forward.  I’d reached my threshold of running from my thoughts and distracting myself, and had to go deeper to process the complex emotions I was experiencing in yet another huge transition in my life.  

After trying everything under the sun (meditation, adaptogens, reiki, you name it...) I finally came back to Rochester and started the healing process. I doubled up on therapy, started work with a psychic healer (more on that for another time), and made that long-awaited appointment with my psychiatrist. There I was again, sitting in the waiting room feeling like a “failure”, preparing to explain to my doctor that, despite everything I’d done, I needed to go back on medication.  It was in this moment that I realized the shame that was holding me back; at my core, I honestly believed that a complete and successful human wouldn’t need anti-depressants to function as their highest self. Despite all of my positive experiences with medication, and a world that’s increasingly open to mental health conversations, I fell victim to the stigma that I should just “power through” and “find a better way”.

But the truth is: it’s okay to not be okay. We get to ask for help, to be vulnerable, to explore any and all resources (safely) to be our highest selves. Yes, you can be successful and take medication for mental health.  Yes, you can experience highs and lows and still be worthy of love.  Yes, you can co-exist with anxiety and still show up as your best self.   Whatever happens, giving ourselves GRACE allows us to love and accept ourselves exactly as we are.  And that’s where the healing begins.

Welcome to the Pursuit of Harpiness. I love you and I’m thrilled to share my journey with you!

XO, Grace