If you landed on this blog, you are likely looking for some badass meal prep inspo.
Well, you will get that.
If you follow my Instagram, you get a bit more real life, plus a few added swear words.
Also on Instagram, you will see my “Sunday fridge” almost every Sunday. It looks a lot like this…
Although my fridge pics don’t really make it on the blog, they have kind of become a thing I do on Instagram.
I want to tell you right now that my fridge is not staged. That is my real life fridge. But, why am I telling you this, and why do you care?
Well, while this is a food blog, it is my space, and I sometimes pull in some of my real life shit into it. Like the time I got laid off and it sent me into a tail spin. Or, how about that time, I lost my baby and fell into depression and triggered some pretty severe anxiety I had managed quietly for YEARS… my whole life to be exact.
Yeah, so in addition to my beautiful fridge and perfect little meal prep containers, there is a real person, and I have my very own platform to talk about the things I love, and the things I want to advocate for.
Ok, back to my fridge.
My Sunday fridge is my therapy. My self care. The thing I do every week for ME.
My Sunday ritual of organizing my week and planning our meals for the week is a form of self care and therapy for my anxious mind. A bonus is that healthy foods make me FEEL better, so I make it priority to have them in my life.
Organizing my week, puts my mind at ease, gives me control, and just feels good.
I have a generalized anxiety disorder.
After A LOT of thinking and self reflection, and a few doctor visits, it is clear that this is something I have been managing my whole life. I say managing, because it had never been so much of an issue that it controlled my life. Until 2017.
But, over the past 5 years, it had slowly crept up on me – and in 2017 – it hit me like a train and damn near took me out for good.
In a span of 3 years, my mother (who is my very best friend in the whole world!) was on life support (while I worked in that very same ICU), my dad suffered a stroke, my infant daughter was hospitalized for seizures and a later diagnosis of H1N1, and then a terrifying diagnosis of Chirari Malformation ( a neurological condition) - and I wasn't even 30 yet.
All the while I was building a very impressive resume for a twenty something, getting married, buying a house, and posting how awesome it all was on Facebook. I thought I was coping like a rockstar!
So, while undiagnosed formally, I clearly have some fuel for PTSD… which for me, has accumulated into a generalized anxiety disorder.
So, in a world where I have been able to control… oh NOTHING around me, I find that organizing my week helps alleviate some of the anxiety I was feeling almost daily. I can think about what is coming up in the week. Prepare. Ask for help when it feels like too much. Slow down. Just stop and think.
Why the hell am I sharing this so publicly on my blog?
When I was going through the thick of this monster, I didn’t even know what I was going through. I didn’t know what to call it. I didn’t know it had a name.
I didn’t know people go through this. I didn’t know I didn’t need to go through this in isolation. I just kept telling myself to “get over it”. EVERY SINGLE DAY.
I didn’t do that self talk to hide it. I wasn’t trying to hide anything. I had that self talk because I had ZERO AWARENESS that I was struggling with mental health and that this was a legit thing!!
I was so incredibly relieved when I finally saw a doctor for my irritability, lack of desire to participate in life, my fainting, my god awful nightmares, and for my “episodes” (that I now know are panic attacks) to find out that this shit has a name.
It is a thing that happens, and there are resources to get back on track – once I was able to call this what it was and realize I wasn’t going completely crazy.
What?!?! I had been telling myself to “get over it” and this was a thing that had actual supports and help and solutions to. FAAAAKK.
I waited too long because I just didn’t recognize it. I felt too strong to have anything wrong. I had got through it so I was "ok".
I am 8 months out from the depths of the worst and I can’t waste this platform I have. I have to share my experience, to shed light to someone who is feeling like I was months ago.
I also don’t want to give the illusion that my life is as perfect as my fridge, my meal plan and my cute little containers.
Those things are essential to keep me on track in life. My not even close to perfect life. I want to share that my life is not Instagram perfect. It is not as organized as my meal plans.
Seriously, you should see my laundry on the daily.
So, there you have it. ALL OF IT. My perfect Instagram fridge… and my not so perfect mental health that I WANT to talk about. I WANT to share what an anxiety disorder can look like. I want you to get the support you or a loved on needs if you were like I was UNAWARE because we don’t talk about this stuff.
I am going to talk about it. Anytime….. until the next time, I will be neurotically organizing my fridge!