Written By Caitlin Lagnese

Caitlin Lagnese is a 35-year-old SAHM and a women’s mental health & wellness blogger from Cleveland, Ohio.

Her website is called ReelChat and it’s all about ditching the highlight reel mentality. After being diagnosed with manic depression and PTSD, Caitlin felt a calling to shed light on mental illness and normalize talking about mental health. She felt a calling to create a safe and inclusive community where women could partake in real, raw, and meaningful conversations.

ReelChat touches on topics such as depression and grief to self-acceptance and chasing dreams. No topic is too taboo for ReelChat so if you are ready to get reel

Connect with Caitlin:

Facebook:@reelchat_blog
Instagram: @reelchat_blog

I was always the girl who apologized, even when I wasn’t sorry. I was always the girl who was too emotional. I, of course apologized for that too. I was the little girl with super big feelings. While everyone around me was busy stuffing down their feelings, my feelings were spewing out like an old leaky faucet. It didn’t matter how many tune-ups were done, my emotions would inevitably seep out. It wasn’t always pretty or contained. And let me tell you, the world most certainly didn’t like that. .

Let me bring you back to 4th grade. I had the most loving and emotionally in-tune teacher that year. We always started the day by talking about feelings. It was a morning meeting of sorts, a mental check-in if you will. Naturally, it was my favorite part of the day. The teacher would pull out her feelings wheel and give us all a chance to share how we were feeling that day. Of course, I always raised my hand first. I pretty much led the morning meeting of emotions. I remember scratching my head, wondering why no one ever wanted to share their feelings with the class. This was what I lived for, forget math and science! But it didn’t take long for me to start noticing the eye rolls and sighs from my classmates who wished I’d shut up already. By January my hand rarely raised for morning meetings, even when the teacher nudged me to share. But the message from my peers was clear, I was too much. So I apologized and moved on.

I grew up an only child in Berea, Ohio, a quaint suburb of Cleveland, Ohio. In many ways, my childhood was reminiscent of the PBS cartoon Arthur. I pretty much grew up in Elwood City with all my pals meeting up at the local neighborhood treehouse to figure out the plan for the weekend. We loved riding our bikes up to the local ice cream shop and enjoyed floating down the Rocky River on makeshift rafts. I came from a pretty good home with overall loving and supportive family members. I always had a roof over my head and food on the table. I had plenty of friends. I did well in school. But despite all that, I could not help but overthink just about everything. I could not help but obsess over the afterlife at age 8. By age 10 I was reorganizing the produce section at my local grocery store, saddened by the messy state of the apples. And my favorite emotional party trick you ask? Why of course people-pleasing. By the time I got to high school, I had perfected my need to please.

It’s like no matter how hard I tried to conceal my deep feelings and worries, they always found a way to reappear. There wasn’t a reason or “excuse” for my annoyingly deep feelings. I was born in the late 80s. No one was talking about emotional intelligence. No one was talking about mental health. No one was talking about feelings. By the time I graduated from high school, I was a pro at apologizing for everything I wasn't sorry for.

Through it all though I had the support of my parents, who granted me the space to be exactly who I was. They never told me my feelings were too much or that I was too much. Collectively we were a pretty emotionally in-tune family. Now did our emotions always come out constructively? No, we were far from a cookie-cutter family but for being as young as my parents were, they did great with the tools they had. I look back with appreciation knowing that my feelings were always validated. Home was my safe space, I just didn’t realize it until much later in life. No matter what was going on in our personal lives, there was always a strong underlying love that carried zero conditions. My husband and I are similarly raising our kids. We have zero interest in bringing up perfect little robots who go through the motions in hopes of creating the facade of a perfect family, only for the inevitable crash and burn because our kids lack life skills and basic coping mechanisms. No way! Instead, we strive to be a supportive family with unconditional love as our foundation.

By the time I was 22, I received my first diagnosis of OCD and clinical depression. At age 28 I was additionally diagnosed with PTSD and manic depression and entered into an intense therapy program which completely changed the course of my life. Dare I say it saved my life!

Here are the top 3 life lessons I have learned on this mental health journey; I hope it resonates with you:

I was BLESSED, not cursed, with an emotional brain. I still ugly cry at the movie Homeward Bound for goodness sake, which my daughter lovingly pokes fun at me for. Look, you know you feel a little tug on your heartstrings when Shadow shows up on that hill limping into Peter’s arms right alongside Chance and Sassy. It gets me every time because I have this natural ability to really engage and connect with these characters. Even now at 35. For a moment I am Peter and Shadow is my dog. It is important to note though that I have to be extremely careful with the media I consume. It can get dark and heavy really fast.
Some of the saddest and loneliest people don’t tend to feel a lot of feelings. There are many reasons why. Sometimes it’s because they were never taught about feelings. Maybe they didn’t come from a super warm and fuzzy home. Sometimes it’s because they choose not to feel anything uncomfortable. They stuff it down as far as their emotional baggage can go. And some people take pride in being stoic and “put together” but let me make one thing very clear. Since starting my blog I have talked with countless women who have said they grew up never talking about their feelings and were downright afraid of their parents. Just recently I spoke with a woman who was sexually abused by a family member as a child. The family member went to prison but the rule was we never speak of it again. At 14 she attempted suicide for the first time.
I saved the best for last. This is a three-parter! I've learned over the years that I’m an empath, an emotional healer of sorts. I live for affirming others, it’s my love language after all. I’m a woman full of hope and gratitude. And when I hear certain songs or smell certain smells, it's like I'm transported to a memory frozen in time. Pretty cool. But just like anything, some major annoyances come along with empathic abilities. The most obvious for me is people pleasing, although I do consider myself a recovering people-pleaser.
People pleasing is a drug to me. I really have to keep an eye on it because it's super easy for me to fall back into my old ways. My people-pleasing started when I was just a little girl. Making others happy in return made me happy. Like most things, it started innocently enough but by puberty it was apparent my need to please had taken a whole life of its own. I was a needy chameleon shifting colors and becoming someone else entirely to fit other’s needs, wishes, and desires. I would completely take on the views and interests of others for the sake of fitting in, all while abandoning my wants and needs. If I’m being completely honest it's super embarrassing to reflect on the way I used to let others treat me. To some I was a doormat, to others I was an easy target with a big kick me sign taped to my back. And to be fair, I allowed it. The most hurtful and harmful part of people-pleasing for me, other than completely losing sight of who I am, is knowing that no matter what I do, say, or pretend to be, I will never be liked by everyone. Heck, some people will dislike you just to dislike you. They will go to great lengths to make you look bad so they look better. But it's like the old saying goes, hurt people, hurt people. The minute I started sharing my story with others and living out a more authentic life was the exact minute I took my power back and went into recovery.
Something else I struggle with due to empathy is social burnout which isn't talked about enough. I love people. I love community. I love making new friends and connections. But it's all a delicate balance. I haven't had a true manic episode in some time but one surefire way to know is when my calendar is booked for months at a time. I will suddenly join all the clubs and then decide it’s time to take up crafting and cooking. But not just any crafting and cooking. We are talking full-blown seasonal art projects and homemade fresh bento boxes with PB&Js cut in hearts. Ya know, really go the Pinterest mom route. By the way, none of that sparks joy for me. I wish it did. Even with my mood stabilizer balancing my brain, I do still find myself itching to get out of the house and be amongst the people! So having a couple of days a week with no plans really helps ensure I'm not overdoing it. I've also learned to be very honest with my family and friends. If I'm feeling overwhelmed then I'll simply be honest about it instead of coming up with some bogus excuse. Taking frequent social media and blog breaks is also very helpful!
This brings me to being overly helpful. Sigh. I can read a person in seconds, and read an entire room in minutes. I am generally in tune with the emotions of others and feel a responsibility to take on said emotions. I can still hear my mom's voice in my head, “Would you please stop telling me how to feel? My feelings are not your responsibility.” Yet another time my mom was right. I am indeed not the feelings police. I can’t tell you how many times a week I have to remind myself not to overly involve myself and to stop taking on problems that do not belong to me. If someone close to me seems off or in a bad mood, I can’t just let it go. I wish I could. Nope, instead I poke around and pry until I figure it out. I will go to ridiculous lengths to try and control situations and the feelings of others because when all is said and done, I just want everyone to be happy and healthy. I am currently working on setting better emotional boundaries. Internalizing the feelings and needs of those around you can be draining, stressful, and often lead to unhelpful decision-making. And remember, people won’t change just because you want them to, at least not genuine and lasting change. I'm realizing that being a good friend or mentor doesn't mean suiting up as Nancy Drew and taking on the problems of the world. Being a good friend is all about listening and providing the space to vent and work things out. There is a huge difference between walking beside someone who is in a hard season and taking over. Everyone has a story to tell, who am I to take their pen away and write it for them?

So I think it's safe to say most of my identity is indeed wrapped around emotional and mental health. This begs the question, am I too emotional; Am I too much? Or am I just paying attention? Do I feel too much or perhaps do others not feel enough? Glennon Doyle really brought this to the forefront of my mind in her bestseller Untamed. And while I can’t control how others view my emotions, I can tell you how I view them. I was beautifully and delicately made, woven by the emotional hands of my creator. What the world sees as emotional or mental quirks to be frowned upon or suppressed, I see as little gifts. Mastering the art of emotions makes for a more fulfilling life. Man is it good to be alive and thriving, feeling all the emotions the world has to offer!

So because of this, I no longer apologize for being emotional. I no longer apologize for my mental struggles or hard days. I no longer apologize for things that I'm not sorry for.

I'm done being sorry and so should you!

#sorrynotsorry

xoxo,

Caitlin

Sorry, Not sorry!

I'm done being sorry and so should you!