If you’re reading this right now, you can bet I’ve already read this line and the following post a million times over just to ensure everything is right. I’ve obsessed over the tiniest details and wondered if I should say this or if you would judge me for saying that. To be honest, publishing this post has scared the hell out of me, and I’ve even considered not posting it at all…but that’s probably just the anxiety talking.
In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, I’ve decided to try something different and a bit more personal. While this is the story of my own battle with mental illness and the little dog that saved me, I realized as I was writing it that this is more for the readers out there who may be just like me, the ones silently fighting an invisible battle that nobody else can see.
If you are one of the 1,395,300 people in this country who suffer from depression and anxiety, I wrote this for you. You’re not alone, and even if it doesn’t feel like it right now, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Anxiety and Depression: It Can Happen to Anyone
Many people believe that anxiety and depression are triggered by traumatic events or a less than desirable upbringing, and while this is true, everyone who knows me well would say I had an ideal childhood. And it’s true…I did.
I grew up with parents who loved my two sisters and I very much, lived in a beautiful home filled with dogs, went on great vacations, performed well in school, had fantastic friends, and dated a few times. If anything, my upbringing was nothing less than normal, and I was always known as the happy and bubbly girl who had her life together.
When I grew up and graduated college, I married my gem of a husband, Tim, scored my first big girl job right out of school, and moved to Charleston, SC, one of my favorite cities in the world! Life was good, and I had everything I could ever want. That’s why nothing could have prepared me for the changes slowly happening within myself, something at the time I was completely unaware of.
Welcome Home…Just Kidding!
Tim is a military man, so when we received a duty station change, I was excited about the new adventure. The company I was working for even made my position remote so I could continue to write from home!
When we first arrived at our new duty station, everything seemed as if it were falling right into place. We were a newly-wed couple living in a new city, and the opportunities to make a life together appeared endless. However, reality wasn’t so kind.
Within just a few weeks of the move, my husband was working so often that we would go weeks without seeing or talking to each other. I was also having a difficult time adjusting to our new hometown. It was hard for me to make friends since most people around my age already had their “cliques” formed and warded off newcomers with cold disinterest. I attempted to find a new job as a way to meet people, but opportunities for a writer in that particular area were slim to none. If that weren’t enough, the city we moved to didn’t exactly offer much to do, and for a girl from Orlando and Charleston, that was a huge adjustment.
I found myself alone in our quiet home most of the time, occupying my hours with writing and Netflix. I tried to go out and do fun things for myself, but after a while, even just the thought of walking to the mailbox sounded like a monumental chore that I had no interest in completing. The excitement that I had once felt for our new adventure was long gone, and in its place stood a somber and thick gloom, but I was determined to stay positive and upkeep my happy and bubbly persona, even if I didn’t feel that way on the inside. I felt like I HAD to put on a good face for the crowd, otherwise, people would start to suspect that something was wrong with me, I was ungrateful, or even worse, weak.
PANIC!
Tim started to notice that I was very quiet when we were home, a characteristic he claimed was very odd for me. My once healthy eating habits had deteriorated, and I was leaving a hefty chunk of leftovers on my plate…another thing that was VERY unlike me. XD
I assured him that everything was fine and I was just tired, but I wouldn’t dare tell him that for days I hadn’t been able to sleep or shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. There was nothing wrong, but for some reason, I just couldn’t let it go. I would sit in my corner of the couch, head swirling with the negative thoughts that had barged straight into my cranium and decided to make themselves at home. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, legs cramping with restlessness, and a heavy lump in my throat that grew with each passing hour.
What I wish I’d known then was that I was experiencing an anxiety attack. I was too embarrassed to admit that I thought something was wrong with me, so I just shrugged it off and convinced myself that this phase would pass. I wanted to believe I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself.
Approximately two months after our move, I trudged to the DMV one morning to straighten out some paperwork for my car. I had woken up on edge that morning with a deep pit in my stomach, and things were not going so well at the government office. From long wait times to unhelpful and rude staff, I could feel the pit sitting deep within my core tightening. The longer I was there, the more uneasy and, dare I say it, panicked, I felt.
I had to return home to retrieve more paperwork, and the entire drive there, I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat echoing in my ears. The pit that started in my stomach had suddenly risen into my chest, and then into my throat. My breathing became shallow, the steering wheel slipped in my sweaty palms, and the world started closing in on me as tunnel vision set in.
Luckily, I made it home just in time before I thought I couldn’t drive another mile. I turned off my car’s engine and basked in total silence, completely alone and terrified. I thought I was about to have a heart attack, but instead, my vision became blurry and all sounds from the outside world faded away. Suddenly, the only word that I could possibly comprehend at that moment jumped into my mind. “SCREAM.”
My mouth opened almost involuntarily, and the most terrifying and horrible sound that I’ve ever had the displeasure to create poured from my depths. I could feel the walls of my throat burn as this scream ripped through my body and exploded in my ears.
Obviously, I have screamed before from fear, excitement, and anger, but this sound was unlike anything I had ever produced. This was the manifestation of all the loneliness, internal torment, and confusion I had been feeling for months, almost as if it were some kind of dark and twisted symphonic medley. I’m sure the sound of that scream would have made even the devil himself uneasy in my presence.
Then, just as quickly as it came, it stopped. I sat frozen in my seat, partially from shock. I wouldn’t have even noticed I was crying hadn’t I felt the sting of hot tears trailing down my cheeks. My hands were shaking so violently that I had to grip the steering wheel to keep them still.
My forehead joined them there as I sobbed, tears splashing against my legs and a stinging sensation building in my throat. At that moment, I had never felt so alone.
That was my first panic attack, and to this day, I can still hear that scream.
“Can We Get a Dog?”
Months passed, and by this point, it was no secret to my friends and family that I had a strong distaste for where Tim and I were living. What really worried them, however, was my sudden change in personality. I was quiet, emotional, and irritable. The activities and hobbies I had once loved to do were replaced with lying in bed for hours or distracting my debilitating thought process with mindless TV. I just wasn’t Lauren anymore. The only thing that seemed to bring back my happy and bubbly counterpart was my favorite animal, dogs!
I grew up with our family dogs but never had a companion of my own. For years I begged Tim for a dog to keep me company while he was gone, but it wasn’t until now that he finally started to consider it seriously. He had been hopelessly witnessing the start of my emotional and mental erosion and admitted that a dog may be good for me.
After a serious discussion about welcoming a dog into our family, my husband took me to the local animal shelter to search for potential companions. I fell in love with a beautiful young husky in one of the back kennels and was ready to take him home. To our dismay, our landlord disapproved of the adoption. He informed us that our condo complex had a strict rule that forbade pets over 30 pounds, a rule we were unaware of before visiting the shelter.
Defeated and anxious, I decided against looking at the other dogs and told Tim I just wanted to go home.
Being the thoughtful and wonderful man that he is, Tim’s heart broke to see me so disappointed. He called up one of our good friends from Charleston who had a Miniature Australian Shepherd I had always loved! Another friend of hers in Kentucky had Miniature Aussies of her own, and every once in a while, puppies!
With a small glimmer of hope returned, I called the woman the next morning and inquired about her dogs. As luck (or fate) would have it, she just happened to have one puppy left from her most recent litter, a female red-tri. I barely had time to think before the words “I’ll be there for her tomorrow” projected straight out of my mouth.
A Little Pup Named Lady
I was so excited that I didn’t sleep at all that night. In fact, I finally gave up on sleep at 3 am and started the 12-hour drive to Kentucky. For the first time in what felt like years, I was genuinely happy about something.
After a long and exhausting drive nearly halfway across the country, I arrived at a small yet charming farm in the heart of the Bluegrass State. I met the breeder and her family, interacted with the parents of my puppy, and examined where they lived and how they were taken care of. Once everything checked out and I was sure this wasn’t a puppy mill, I was welcomed into their home to meet her.
I’ll never forget the moment I stepped into that tiny farmhouse and caught a glimpse of a tiny cotton ball with four legs graced in the arms of the breeder. The floof suddenly moved, and two soft, light brown eyes met mine. My heart liquified when I noticed her tiny brown nose, large drooping ears that she had yet to grow into, and most of all, the way just the sight of her draped a thin sheet of comfort over me.
The woman gently placed the puppy into my arms, and it simply felt right. I must have been experiencing a form of that feeling mothers have when they hold their baby for the first time. All of a sudden, for just a moment, everything was perfect. I forgot all about the things I had been worrying about that day. Everything that had made me anxious, miserable, and alone didn’t matter anymore. I could hardly believe that this tiny and adorable girl was mine, and for as long as she breathed air, I would be hers.
We named her Lady, after our favorite direwolf from Game of Thrones…or the sweet pup from Lady and the Tramp…whichever makes you happier! 🙂
A New Ally
Over the next few days is when Lady’s personality truly started to show. As she got used to being around us and in her new home, she started to reveal a more spunky and lively side of her.
We quickly learned that she was excited to go for walks as long as she didn’t have to wear the harness. She also loved tennis balls, chewing on ice cubes, and snuggles, but hated the sound of the vacuum cleaner and turned her nose up at food she thought was unfit for a princess of her status. She was gentle, smart, adventurous, feisty, and above all, so deeply loved.
Tim and I were obsessed with her and admitted our little family now felt complete with her in it. While the excitement of welcoming Lady lifted my spirits, I wish I could say that’s where the battle ended. The truth is, it was only just beginning.
Our soul-sucking routine continued, as did my anxiety and panic attacks. I still found it difficult to crawl out of bed and would fall into unprovoked crying fits and silent anxiousness at random moments. For many months, my depression and anxiety were crippling, and I felt like I couldn’t talk to anybody about how I was truly feeling out of fear of being judged, labeled a “Debbie Downer,” or told I was lucky to have my life and should just shut up and be grateful.
I knew I was lucky to have my little family, a home to live in, a job, and basic necessities that so many people around the globe are deprived of, but something still felt like it was missing. I was ashamed and believed that maybe I just wasn’t cut out for the life I had chosen…like I didn’t deserve it.
Then my thought process morphed into cruel insults such as “You’re just a waste of space rotting alone in this house,” or “You’re always sad, awkward, and lazy. No wonder nobody wants to be your friend.” At one point, I even believed my own husband was tired of me and my depression. As time went on, the demons inside my head became increasingly malicious, and the more I denied them, the worse they became. For a brief period, I also avoided phone calls and answering text messages just because I couldn’t summon the energy to pretend that everything was ok.
I gave all the little anti-depression techniques I uncovered a try, but none of them worked. I attempted exercising more, reaching out and talking to people, eating better, going for walks, and trying a new hobby. I even visited a therapist but had a terrible experience and was afraid to try again for a long time. When every attempt to bring myself back ended in failure, I became more discouraged and eventually dropped the activity altogether. Trust me, I tried every bit of advice I could find, but I was still a slave to the voices in my head.
I’m not afraid to admit that I hit rock bottom. If you’ve ever seen the film “Get Out,” then you’ll understand what I’m saying when I explain that each day felt as if I were a “passenger” lost deep inside myself, hopelessly watching as my life came apart at the seams.
Not All Heroes Wear Capes
I’ve always believed that life has a way of sending little saviors into our lives when we need them most, whether they be people, things, or events. For me, my guardian angel in my time of need was Lady.
We brought her home right around the time that my mental health took a turn for the worse, and she has loved me unconditionally through it all. When all I wanted to do was lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling, she nuzzled her snoot right into my neck as a way to tell me to get up and take her outside for a walk. On my hardest days, when all I could do was sink to the floor and cry, she was instantly at my side, resting her chin on my knees and looking up at me with big brown eyes as if to say, “It’s ok Mom, I’m here.”
When I felt alone and on the verge of an anxiety attack, in Lady would swoop with a mouthful of tennis ball, ready to play! During nights that Tim was gone and I just needed some company, my little fluff would curl beside me in bed and stay there all-night-long, even when insomnia and nightmares kept me awake.
Plus, having the responsibility of a dog gave me something to do that I genuinely enjoyed. She required three walks a day, which encouraged me to get out of the house and breathe in some fresh air. Taking her the dog parks and beaches became something that I looked forward to. I also had to train her to be the proper little Lady that she is today. Being a dog mom requires a lot of work and patience, but I loved every second of it!
I also became increasingly interested in maintaining her health so she could live a long and happy life, which led me to start reading books and articles about the canine body and behavior, healthier alternatives to pharmaceutical medications, wholesome dog diets, and more.
When the sky was falling down around me, Lady was the only thing present in my everyday life that gave me something to be happy about. She was everything I needed to get through some of my darkest days, and without her, I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now.
In many ways, that little dog saved me. She was my hero when I felt like I was alone in the world, and for that, I will always be grateful to her.
The Traveling Duo: How Doggone Destinations Came to Be
Back in college, I had the opportunity to live and travel in Europe for a semester, and that experience sparked the wanderlust in me. After my study abroad trip, I knew that I wanted to travel more, but due to my obligations at home, I didn’t have the chance to do the kind of traveling that I wanted. Therefore, I opted for exploring nearby cities with Lady. It allowed me to do something that sparked passion in me with my fur child. Ultimately, those trips were healthy for the both of us.
Planning vacations is a skill that I have always prided myself in, but with Lady now in the mix, I had to switch up a lot of my former travel-planning habits to include things that we could do and see together. Besides, where was the fun in bringing my dog if I was just going to leave her at the hotel the entire trip? I spent more time researching nearby destinations and their pet-friendly accommodations, activities, restaurants, parks, and more. I narrowed down my list of potential cities to the most pet-friendly, and those places ended up on our travel bucket list.
By the time I had introduced Lady to destinations like Charleston, Asheville, and even New York City, I was getting messages from friends and family who had seen our photos. They wanted to know where I found pet-friendly places to stay, and recommendations for things to do with their dogs in places we’d visited.
It occurred to me that the pet-friendly travel trend is currently in its infancy, but more and more pet parents are becoming interested in vacation ideas that allow them to bring their furry companions with them…and that’s when I got an idea!
As a writer, I have been told by numerous people that I should start a blog (apparently, all the best writers have one). So I thought, “Why not combine my passion for travel, dogs, and writing into one blog?” But first, I needed a name.
Tim was home the night I was brainstorming ideas, and I remember feeling his warm presence as I feverishly scribbled across my notebook, taking note of any idea that popped into my head. He peered over my shoulder, scanning over the numerous words and titles I had jotted down. After a few moments, he snatched up his own pen, leaned over my notebook, circled one of the names I had written down, and said, “That’s the one.”
I stared at the words he had circled and repeated them over and over in my head until I recognized that he was right. It was perfect. “Alright,” I said. “Doggone Destinations it is.”
The Launch
I spent the next few months reading every article and book I could about setting up a blog. I even took an online class in building a website so I could create my pages exactly the way I wanted them to look. I pushed myself hard to meet my self-imposed deadline for the upcoming spring, and there were some nights I stayed up until all hours of the morning to work on it. While it was a long and sometimes aggravating process, I found that I thoroughly enjoyed doing it! Writing and traveling with Lady are things that I am very passionate about, so all the late nights and early mornings were worth it to me.
After nearly three months of diligent work, Doggone Destinations was finally ready to launch. I used my previous marketing expertise to start spreading the word about a new pet-friendly travel blog, but honestly wasn’t expecting a huge turnout for the first day.
Imagine my surprise when I logged in the next morning and discovered my website had been visited over 500 times in less than 24 hours!
I hope you won’t consider me a braggart for saying that I was immensely proud of myself…wait…proud of myself?! That was a feeling I very rarely felt anymore, so for that moment, I relished in it.
Happier Endings
After the successful launch, I continued to pour my free time and attention towards Doggone Destinations and traveling with Lady. It made me feel good to know that I was working on something that people genuinely cared about and relied on for pet-friendly travel advice.
Plus, Doggone Destinations was something that was all mine. It was my creation, and I didn’t have to report to anyone else. I was free to unleash my creative side, and nobody could take it away from me. It was the first thing I felt like I had full control of in my life in a long time, and it was something that made me happy.
The newfound confidence gifted to me by my new adventure as a writer finally convinced me to repair other areas of my life. After nearly two years of hiding in the dark, I found the courage to swallow my pride and admit the truth I had known for so long. I had anxiety and depression, and I needed help.
I opened up to Tim and my closest friends and family, and to my relief, they were all very understanding and supportive. I didn’t receive any mean comments or guilt trips, only love and encouragement.
Although it made me a little uncomfortable at first, I started seeing a wonderful therapist who addressed all of my fears about dealing with my anxiety. Not only did she teach me helpful techniques to calm myself during an impending anxiety or panic attack, but she also gave me an invaluable tip. “The first step in managing your anxiety is to look it in the face and address it by its name.”
For years, I had been trying to forcefully push my anxiety away instead of acknowledging it when it came in. As long as you recognize your anxiety for what it is and not the truth of your life, it’s much easier to keep it under control when it stops by for an unwelcome visit.
I’m pleased to say that since then, I’m a much happier and fulfilled woman. I let go of the toxic habits I knew weren’t good for me, I became much more social and have made awesome new friends, and we’ve even relocated to a city that I’m absolutely in love with.
I still battle with anxiety and depression, and there are some days that are more difficult than others, but now I’m more open to talking about them and always remember to recognize anxiety as a temporary guest in my mind, not a reflection of who I am.
There are many wonderful people in my life that helped lift me out of the pit I had stumbled into, but it was Lady who inspired me to see the beauty of this world and my life again.
What is Anxiety?
According to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, the term “anxiety disorder” refers to specific psychiatric disorders that involve extreme fear or worry. It’s human to feel anxiety every once in a while. In fact, there are times when it can be considered a healthy emotion…in moderation! However, there are millions of people, including myself, that have seen it take over our entire thought process.
If you’re constantly feeling worried, numb, or panicked, you may have an anxiety disorder. Please allow me to be the first to tell you that IT IS OK! Unfortunately, our society has attached a stigma to those with anxiety and depression. Since the word “anxiety” is tossed around so loosely, it has been incorrectly labeled as “stress.” EVERYBODY feels stress. It’s a normal human emotion, but in excessive amounts, it isn’t.
Therefore, those who actually struggle with anxiety have been dismissed as weak and entitled individuals incapable of handling the everyday stressors of life. This is far from the truth. Those with a legitimate anxiety disorder lack the ability to process the symptoms of stress without alleviation. Whether it be due to a chemical imbalance in the brain or a traumatic event, we have a more difficult time than most organizing negative thoughts and deleting them.
I’m not sure if I can speak for the community affected by anxiety as a whole, but personally, I am aware that many of my worries and fears brought on by my disorder are irrational. I understand that I overthink the smallest of things and endlessly worry about situations that are very unlikely to actually happen or affect me in the ways that I think they will. Nonetheless, I worry all the same. It’s very frustrating for me, and also those around me since most of my friends and family don’t know what to make of me when an anxiety or panic attack transforms my entire demeanor.
Despite my everyday struggle, I was too afraid to open Pandora’s Box and discover that my obvious disorder caused people to think less of me. The negative stigma attached to depression and anxiety led me to believe I would be better off brushing the truth under the rug, and instead, just put on a smile. Looking back on it now, I believe I wouldn’t have suffered quite as long as I did had I been brave enough to seek professional help when I knew I needed it.
If I could give one piece of advice to anyone enduring the same nightmare, it would be to not hide in the dark. There is no shame in admitting that you need help. In fact, if you have the courage to seek advice and assistance from your friends and family or a professional, you’re one of the bravest people I know!
That is something I wish someone had told me years ago. Whatever you may be going through right now, or no matter how alone and terrified you feel, you do not have to do this by yourself. Quite literally, you have me and over a million other people on this planet that understand exactly what you’re going through, and please know that your feelings are valid. Even if you can’t pinpoint exactly what is making you anxious or sad, there is nothing wrong with riding through the motions and dealing with these negative emotions in a healthy way. Remember that your anxiety and/or depression is NOT who you are. When the demons inside your mind begin to tear you down, as they will, look them in the face and call them by their name! They are only there to stay temporarily.
Also, enlist the help of your pets! 🙂 They love you unconditionally and provide the perfect distraction from oncoming anxiety or panic attacks.
We only get one chance to live this life, so let’s end the stigma against those who silently suffer every day and instead remind them that they aren’t alone.
If you are having a difficult time right now and just need someone to listen, call a loved one you trust or the National Alliance on Mental Illness Hotline at 1-800-950-6264.
You are also more than welcome to reach out to me anytime at lauren@doggonedestinations.com. You have my word that I will never share what you tell me with anyone else, I will not publish your messages, and I will be more than happy to offer advice or just listen to what you need to say.
Godspeed, you beautiful soldiers!
Interested to see more of my adventures with Lady? Check out some of the most exciting dog-friendly destinations that we’ve given two-paws up, canine health and safety tips, DIY projects, and pet product reviews!
