From My Mom To You

By: Abby Anerella ❤️

This week's blog is written by my Mom, Christine Anerella. I asked her to write things through her perspective, and her own experiences with me. I hope you enjoy (Thanks Mom <3)

Don’t wait.

About 2 1/2 years ago I noticed something in my daughter that I had not seen before. Simply put, the bright light that was Abigail was dimming and I didn’t know why. Despite my letting her know that I knew something wasn’t right and that she could tell me absolutely anything without being judged, she didn’t. Eventually, I was alerted to Abigail’s personal struggle and we began the process of healing. She told me everything and swore me to secrecy. Some things worried me more than others but nothing concerned me more than knowing she struggled for as long as she did without proper intervention. Don’t wait.

Abigail began weekly therapy sessions within a few weeks of her telling me what she was experiencing. Originally, she didn’t believe she needed outside help, but I knew I was neither enough nor was I equipped to provide her with what she so desperately required for her mental health. I was too close and too emotional. Abigail began to make great progress. The light that defined her so intently was visible once more. Her sense of humor was returning and I found myself breathing again. Don’t wait.

We had what I believe to have been a “good run”, a long period of time where everything seemed back to normal. When it came time to talk about and visit colleges, however, I started to see a shift. Nothing overwhelming, but enough for me to pay closer attention and have some concern over her decision to be far away from home. Abigail has always been a homebody. Her closest friends are her cousins. Our boxers, Hank and Lily, are her joy. When the University of Pittsburgh, a five hour drive from home, was her college choice, I remember thinking it wasn’t a good idea. Of course I supported her and there was actually a small part of me that thought, “maybe this is what she needs.” I missed her terribly but knew if she was ok, then I would be ok too. It turns out that neither one of us ever got to be ok. Don’t wait.

In mid-October, I started getting texts and phone calls that were different than the usual homesick style ones that I had been receiving. Abigail was sending links to OCD websites and asked me to please believe her. She was starting to experience some of the same thoughts and things that she did a year and a half ago and I could tell she was in distress. She again asked me to keep her confidence, and I did. I told no one, not even her father. It seemed that nearly everything was becoming too much for her. I started to worry. I thought if I could just look in her eyes and hold her, I could help her. I was wrong. Don’t wait.

Abby’s birthday and Thanksgiving visits came and went and I knew in my heart after seeing her, that being in Pittsburgh was not good for her. Having her home for three weeks around Christmas offered me some relief, although it was obvious she had lost a lot of weight, even since Thanksgiving. I tried to engage in conversation around her transferring to a school closer to home, but she dismissed it and me almost immediately. Leaving her in Pittsburgh on January 8, 2023 was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. In an attempt to comfort me, my husband said she would be ok. I knew she wouldn’t. Don’t wait. Six days later Abigail called me at 8am. She had spiraled to an all time low. I was terrified. I told her that I could no longer keep her confidence, that I would need to tell her dad. We both listened to her and I emphatically stated that she needed to come home. Her dad left within the hour. She was home by 9:30 that evening. Don’t wait.

After a very difficult few days (if you read her journey, you can hear about this in her own words) she began seeing her therapist again. It took several weeks before Abby started to seem like herself. I cried regularly, mostly in the shower because I knew the water would muffle the sound. It was clearly a struggle for her but she was doing an incredible job of managing what her brain was unfairly demanding of her. She needed more. Don’t wait.

Abigail began her IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program) on May 24th, 2023. I was nervous for her because of its intensity and its frequency. I was nervous for me too. I was turning her over to strangers for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week for 8 weeks. With an official OCD diagnosis she began the journey that has brought her to all of you. I could not be more proud of her commitment to the program that helped her (and us) so completely. Her honesty and her courage sit high on a list of remarkable attributes that have come to define our family’s bright light. Don’t wait.

Don’t wait is both my message and my hope for anyone reading this who believes they are impacted by OCD or any other mental health disorder. If it is you…don’t wait. Tell someone and be honest. If you are a parent, sibling, friend or partner…listen and then don’t wait. Don’t wait to help them. Do their legwork for them because they may not be able to do it for themselves. Don’t wait to learn everything you can and support them unconditionally. I think sometimes people believe their purpose in life needs to be grand. Sometimes it can just mean being a mom.