Finding my YELLOW – SAVE ME FROM Liquid error: Could not find asset snippets/analyzify-product-datalayer.liquid

Finding my YELLOW

Talking or writing about your feelings can be a monster in the closet.

There’s always that fear of “what if I am not enough and what if what I have to say, is hard for me to say it… and it doesn’t make anyone feel anything.” Does that make me worthless?

BUT we are all human (for the most part) and that means that we all feel. We all STRUGGLE. We are all imperfect. We all deal with pain, happiness, insecurities, depression etc etc etc. So here is my attempt to try to “connect”…

I had a pretty great childhood. Textbook really. Lots of laughter, silliness and so much happy. I was always the one who just wanted to have a good time. I spent a lot of time playing pranks, making ridiculous movies on an old camcorder and pursuing my passions. There was a lot of dancing, studying and doing fine art, and playing music. It wasn’t perfect but it was pretty dang good. If my childhood had a color, it would definitely be yellow.

If I were a color, I would definitely be yellow! 

Several years go by (ups and downs, trials and victories but for the most part, really really good) and here comes year 2015. I am very happily married to the love of my life and have just had my first child. I had never been happier and had never experienced love quite as intense as the love I felt for my baby. Unconditional love.

October 3: My sweet little William is now 2 months old and life is oh, so so good.

October 5: Life as I know it, will never be the same. My whole world is rocked. Crushed.

My big brother had suddenly and unexpectedly passed away. I was in shock to say the least.

It shook that yellow right out of me.
It changed me. 

Watching my mother have to bury her child was probably the closest thing to hell I have ever experienced. No, it was. Hell. I will never forget the sound of her cry, no… wail, when she heard the horrible news. The smell of her hair while holding her, because she physically couldn’t stand, when they lowered him into the ground. The unbearable pain and sadness on her sweet face. Being the new mother I was, I was broken. How could a mother bury her child? How do you say goodbye to someone for the last time? What if I don’t die before my loved ones? What if something happens to my baby boy? This became my constant self talk. I couldn’t think about anything else. Nothing else mattered.

 Now you can see where this is going and it’s not going somewhere good. We know that all good things have balance, and I was sooo unbalanced, it was crazy. It was unhealthy. I stopped everything. I stopped caring about anything that wasn’t him (William). No friends. No exercise. No music. No dates with my sweet husband. No fun. No laughing. Nothing.The anxiety was crippling. It was so foreign to me up until that point but was quickly becoming the guest that wouldn’t go home. It was like drowning. My lungs were filled with water and I couldn’t scream.

The anxiety became so consistent and constant that it slowly turned into depression. And the depression turned into a new me. And that new me was… well it was awful. Dark. Scary. And my hell, it was lonely.

 Time kept going by and the person I saw in the mirror looking back at me was becoming more and more of a stranger. It was hard to remember that me that was so happy and so yellow. It made me mad… furious… but jealous. How could I have been so naïve about life and the horrible things the come with it?! But also, where the hell did I go? I miss me. What’s wrong with me? I feel so alone. I am so unlovable. Smile. Laugh. Maybe if I pretend it’s not there, it won’t be. Am I being dramatic?

There was about 1,000,001 emotions going on in my mind.

More time went by. Too much time. I was different. My relationships were different. I was wasting away. That’s it. Who is this stranger in my body? I’m my mind?  I decided that this was ridiculous and I was going to do everything I could to remove this demon from my life. It was ruining everything. I wanted to see clearly again. I was so sick of living panic attack to panic attack. It was time to buck up and admit that something was wrong. That I feel broken. Sooo broken. 

I had a heart to heart (and lots of tears) with my husband and told him what I was going through and that I was going to go in and meet with my doctor. I didn’t know where else to start. I was scared.  I went in. 30 minutes later, I was out. That’s it?! I couldn’t believe how painless and smooth the process was. I was in and out. As easy as a check up. Why didn’t I do it sooner? I was living in so much pain for no reason, really. After seeking professional help, within a few days I was feeling less and less fog. More time between anxiety. I wasn’t drowning anymore.

Now the yellow didn’t come back over night and I have had to work really hard to get it back and KEEP it. I reconnected with old friends. I made it a priority to make myself a priority as much as my babies and husband. Finding time to exercise, read books, listen to or play music, play with makeup and express myself as much as I need or want to! Not worry about things that haven’t happened, that probably won’t happen. Stop worrying and live… RIGHT NOW! Talk about my struggles and insecurities. Be vulnerable. CONNECT with other humans.

I have had to do a lot of soul-searching to re-discover myself and find those things that make my yellow SHINE.

I learned a lot about myself in this process, some things are really cool and some things are just real crappy and that’s been really hard to accept. But to play the game effectively you gotta know your hand. The good and the bad.

I have learned that life is damn hard, but also damn good. Sometimes you feel on top of the world and other times you feel the weight of it. You feel broken. But your not. No one is BROKEN. It’s called being human and we are always, always changing and growing. And if you are growing, then you are progressing. Being happy is not hard, It’s HARD WORK.

Work for it. 

We are all doing this for the first time. So cut your self some slack (and others), get help if you need it, and remember…

Another imperfect human, constantly working and living for that YELLOW!
(Michelle Richardson)

The author would like to let the readers know that if they would ever like to reach out to talk, you can DM her on instagram: