In the spring of 2008, I was diagnosed with anxiety, chronic depression, and PTSD. And for many years, I thought, This is it. This is how my life is going to be from now on.

As the years went by, I felt myself changing in many ways. I became so numb and exhausted that it made my body feel too heavy to move. I could no longer function without an insane amount of coffee. Anxiety kept me up at night. I had nightmares and flashbacks, and never woke up feeling rested.  It got dangerous as well. I started spacing out while driving. I would get somewhere and have no memory of driving there. Noises easily startled and triggered me. I always felt sick. Sometimes when I woke up in the morning, I couldn't open my mouth because my jaw was clenched so tight. I had so much tension in my body that I was in pain all the time.

It made me irritable and frustrated, so I avoided other people, including phone calls and texts from friends and family. Even though I was the one shutting them out, it made me feel so lonely.

I remember laying in bed thinking about how much I was missing out on. All the things I wanted to do but couldn't because I felt too numb and too tired to do anything.

I spent almost a decade living like this because I believed what we're taught in this society: That we are not able to heal from stress and trauma and all the symptoms it causes. That we can only learn how to cope and manage. And you know what it does? It keeps us stuck. Round and round we go in a vicious cycle of trying to heal, while none of the things we're doing are focused on healing at all.

And I knew something was wrong.

Growing up with my chuchu, grandmother, who had spent most of her life as a lawenche, medicine woman, in our community, she had taught me how our bodies work. What they need to heal. But I didn't listen. Because, like the rest of us in this society, I had learned to believe that our Indigenous Knowledge is inferior to Western knowledge.

It didn't matter that I had been in therapy for over 8 years, and had tried their medications, and coping methods without ever getting close to true healing.

My blinders stayed on... until I hit my turning point. Domestic violence. I knew that if I wanted a chance to get out— out of that house, and out of a life of just trying to survive— I would have to start listening.

So I did. I started listening to my chuchu and our people's knowledge, and that's when everything changed. Quick too. People in this society have a hard time believing me when I say that because here we learn that healing is a "lifelong journey."

But in reality, your body was made to heal. It can do this. You can do this...

Story time: The lie that kept me stuck, and how I got my life back with the help of Indigenous wisdom and knowledge