About Dawn
When life is seemingly interrupted, we often seek solace in the company of others with similar experiences. Until recently, self-doubt and insecurity prevented me from posting to a public forum. I have lived with anxiety and OCD since childhood. As an adult, I was diagnosed with depression and PTSD.
Here, I stand up to stigma and share my story.
My mental health conditions steal moments that accumulate to significant losses. Living in survival mode with stifled senses and shallow breath is exhausting. I liken it to being trapped in an air pocket.
At one time, I imagine that people would have described me as having a “white picket fence” kind of existence. Truthfully, this has never been my story. From the outside, all is well, but my mental script does not align with the real world. My internal dialogue pins logic to the fence and paints it with a gloomy, dull hue. The finish is worn, and the nails are rusty, a structure one storm away from collapse.
Years of living in the air pocket have taught me survival strategies for the ebbs and flows of pressure. Often the weight feels like it will crush me if I don’t stay engaged in fighting it, so I adjust my position and find just enough oxygen to persist. I am functional; my façade is strong from years of practice. Still, this fissure between my internal conflict and my ability to maintain curb appeal compels me to share.
When I initially contemplated publishing my writing, I decided it would have to be real and raw to be genuinely cathartic and resonant. I could not hang on every word and agonize about being judged on content. Nonetheless, it comes with risk. Some who know and love me are surprised by these portrayals. Admittedly, I worry about their opinions.
Honest and intimate, my blog is more than a journal. Through storytelling and exposure, I hope to reduce stigma around mental health, increase awareness, and reach others to establish a mutually beneficial rapport. My overarching themes are universal: resilience and perseverance.
The climb of recovery is steep; therapy is work. When every day feels daunting and rising from bed seems an impossible test of endurance, we persevere. I write as I continue to heal.
Trapped in an Air Pocket 