Surviving Breakdowns

Yesterday, April 30, 2020, I engaged in a very spirited conversation with my brother and father. It was about Dwayne Wade and his decisions as a parent. My father and brother’s stance:  allowing a twelve-year-old to make a permanent decision is bad parenting. My stance: listening to your child and really paying attention to what they feel deep down in their spirit is the best thing a parent can do. My father posed the question, “did you really know what you wanted at twelve?” my answer, without hesitation, was “yes!” If the question was did I feel comfortable in expressing myself and what I wanted at twelve…that’s a whole other story.

Now don’t get me wrong, twelve-year-old Briana did not have it all figured out. She was a mess of emotions and was constantly trying to find the balance between giving too much and not giving enough. As the youngest of five she was, as my father says, a “melting pot” of all her siblings. But she was desperate to find an identity of her own. Even still, in trying to find that identity there were certain things she…I, just knew about myself. I always knew that I was just a little too sensitive, I would cry at the drop of a dime. On the flipside of that, I got angry way too easily as well. I always knew there was something off as it relates to the way I process my emotions but what I didn’t know was if those I cared about would accept me if I told them what I was battling internally.

As I entered into high school the anxiety around not being accepted only got worse. But of course it did, right? High school is prime time for feeling like you don’t belong. Everyone is trying to figure it out. Am I the cheerleader or the basketball player? Am I a loner or a social butterfly? Am I the scholar or the jock? These questions fanned the flames of my anxiety and insecurities and doing it all was the only way I thought to extinguish the fire. Be the cheerleader, and the soccer player, and the basketball player, and do yearbook, and newspaper, and drama, and maintain a 4.0 gpa and be the social butterfly that everyone loves…but deep down I still felt so alone. I created a habit of hiding behind these various masks and what I thought everyone expected of me, so I pushed my internal issues even deeper down inside out of fear of not being accepted.

I remember a time when my high school boyfriend said to me “none of your friends want to hang out with you because you’re too sad all the time.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if this was a conversation they had all had at length and he just volunteered as tribute to relay the message. I remember feeling so heartbroken and even more alone. I remember not knowing exactly which of my friends agreed with his statement so I looked at them all differently. In the back of my mind that question echoed, “will those I care about still accept me if I tell them what I am battling?” In that moment I felt I received my answer.

I began to spiral deeper and deeper into my depression. I became even angrier because I couldn’t work out, if it was obvious to my friends that something was off with me, why did no one help? So for a long time right under the surface was either extreme sadness or extreme anger, and the little things that we all have to go through in life made those emotions explode. Little disagreements, a difficult math test, sibling squabbles, my clothes not fitting the way I’d like; any and everything sent me over the edge. I remember digging my nails into my arms and the palms of my hands, pulling out my hair, breaking phones, punching wholes in doors (sorry mom), anything to try to regain some sense of control over my emotions. It probably goes without saying but none of that worked. It wasn’t until I was about 21 that I found the only thing that truly worked was talking, sometimes screaming, it out. Exposing the feelings for what they are: a ploy from the devil to keep me bounded and make me feel unworthy of unconditional love and understanding.

In the last five or so years since I decided to finally let people see this not so perfect part of me, I’ve gained a stronger grip on my emotions. Yes I still have breakdowns, like last week for example. I was just so overwhelmed with emotions that were too big to keep inside and to erratic to understand. But as I felt myself building up to a dangerous level of sadness and then an inexplicable level of anger I knew I had to talk to someone who I know loves me. I knew I needed some reassurance that I would be OK even though nothing changed in that immediate moment as far as the various things that were causing my anxiety and distress, knowing that I could just let it out gave me a sense of peace. So I say to those of you who are going through something that you feel no one else will understand or if you feel like you barely understand it yourself: one, be gentle with yourself. Never forget that you are a masterpiece in progress; give the paint some time to dry. Two, know that if someone truly truly loves you, they will accept you in all of your glory as well as all of your gore. The biggest key to surviving breakdowns is recognizing that you can’t do it alone.