Thanks, I'm Trying...

It’s hard to get out of bed sometimes. Actually, a lot of times. It takes me 6 to 15 minutes (depending on if I’m obeying the speed limit and if I hit all green lights) to get to work so for about 7 months I would roll out of bed at 8:15, brush my teeth (honestly sometimes this didn’t even happen, I would just swish mouthwash and go. I know. It’s gross.), throw on whatever looked clean from my floor (pray that it wasn’t on inside out), and be out of my front door in less than 5 minutes. I kinda prided myself on being able to look kind of put together in such a short amount of time. But as time went on I started to look less and less put together but I didn’t care. I wanted to care, but there were so many other things on my mind and taking care of myself way on the bottom of my list.

I work for an amazing church. I’m wrapped in a christian bubble 24/7. I read my bible. In my mind its wrong of me to feel like this. There must be something wrong with me, right?

…right?

One day I was walking with my friend Kayla and she was telling me about something one of her friend’s mom used to say. “You can’t control how you feel, but you can control how you look — look good, feel good.” for some reason that flipped a switch in my head. I had let my anxiety start to take over my life again and the way I was presenting myself was reflecting that.

Something needed to change. My life has been run by anxiety and depression for far too long and I decided that they weren’t going to run me anymore, I was determined to run them.

I started trying, not because I care about what people think about me, but because it was time to realize that I am worth taking care of. The 45 minutes that it takes me to complete my routine every morning is 45 minutes that I can concentrate on something else other than the 100 things I woke up worrying about. I can concentrate on combining the right colors on my eyelids and making my eyelashes look long and full and getting the perfect lip shape with my liquid lipstick. For 45 minutes I am free.

Some of my friends noticed the change. Any time someone compliments my makeup or my outfit all I can really think to answer is “thanks, I’m trying…” Trying to take care of myself. Trying to be a functioning human being. Trying to keep my emotions from taking over everything. Just trying.

Is my anxiety gone? No.

Am I suddenly going to be happy all the time? No.

Is makeup going to fix everything? No.

But, in the words of one of my current favorite tv character Jessica James, “I’m pretty, I’m smart, I’m strong, I am a cocoa queen”

And that’s all that really matters ¯\_(ツ)_/¯