After a series of awful events that lead to a very scary week in the hospital I decided to change my life. I cancelled a wedding that was completely planned and ended the source of my pain; my engagement. I let go of superficial friendships, moved off Park Avenue and into Hells Kitchen, became sober... and then slipped into a depression. I slipped into a deep depression and then confided in my boss at one of those very popular indoor cycling studios. I asked for the company’s support but the next day I lost my job. They’ll never admit it but after I explained I had depression I was being discriminated against. It was fairly obvious. All of this happened in two and a half months. If I wasn’t already low, now, I was hitting bottom.
However, someone did something nice for me. It wasn’t groundbreaking but it wasn’t for praise nor show, it was just really nice. This person was like my saving grace.
Something inside me clicked and I decided I ought to pay it forward. I was determined to do so. At first I made a list of all the random acts of kindness that I had been lucky enough to be the recipient of, anything I could remember. On this list I also included the names of the unknowing do-gooders behind those acts. I thought I would donate a dollar in everyone's name to an organization of my choosing. Though, I realized that kindness had to be spread by the act of putting one foot in front of the other and physically doing something. A few months later I would go on a mission around the world in a pursuit to spread kindness through volunteerism. My travels brought me to South Africa, Abu Dhabi, Thailand and ended in Bali, Indonesia.
Shortly before I left I was crazed with preparation for this mission. I fund-raised like hell and with the love and consideration of my extended circle I raised over twelve thousand dollars in just a few weeks. I also had to pack - for the beaches in Bali, deserts in the UAE, forests in Thailand and the red dirt roads in South Africa. Things were busy and everything I did was for this mission. However, I knew that it wasn’t permanent; I knew I had to get over my version of Eat.Pray.Love. and get on with life once I returned.
I wondered what I would do next. I was sitting on my sisters bedroom floor as she packed to visit her boyfriend in California and I asked "what the hell am I going to do when I return?" She told me that I should continue to live the life I want to live and pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a professionally trained chef. I enrolled in highly credible culinary school shortly after. (Gigantic thanks sista!)
After three months of volunteering I returned home and soon after I began culinary school. It was a new life for Lauren and I was absolutely killing it. I was learning traditional french technique but my concentration was in Italian cuisine, so after building my foundation my studies brought me to Italy where I finished school. (Bonus - now I’m fluent in Italian) After exams I moved on to do my externship in Sardegna and that's when it happened again; I was being discriminated against for my disability - my depression.
An ex publicist and marketing consultant turned chef with a passion for the art of the written word. Although you probably wouldn't figure this due to my many syntax and grammatical errors… I am a writer. I write just as I speak and I can’t help it but I guess that's why my readers say I’m relatable and authentic. I have been a writer my entire life. I do a little freelance work but nothing big and nothing that has my name on it. I have written for blogs before and so, I have my own. It is a blog that I created to journal my travels (throughout my volunteer mission) that became a food and travel blog with a plethora of photos shared from my instagram account, @ltfusch. However, once I was discriminated against for having depression for the second time my blog turned into something different...It turned into something different because I couldn't hold it in. I was so angry about this and I had to share it because I knew it wasn't right.
And, so, I shared this post:
I have a secret —Will you discriminate?
August 20, 2015 via www.fuschillotravelseast.tumblr.com :
“I’ve never written about this before but I am going to say it on my blog and on social media for the first time, and I’m not going to be ashamed about it either. Ready, set, go! Along with ADHD, I have depression. I’ve battled it on and off for most my life and I’ll tell you that it’s not easy but it’s not impossible either. I’m not some feeble victim. I don’t need to be institutionalized, and if I was, there’s nothing wrong with that either.
Mental illness is ACTUALLY a thing. I’m sorry that I’m not sorry for those of you that live in a perfect world and deny that mental illness exists or that it is a real illness. However, The Anxiety and Depression Association of America’s facts & statistics state that Major Depressive Disorder affects approximately 14.8 million American adults, or about 6.7 percent of the U.S. population age 18 and older in a given year. So, I can guarantee that you are one of them or that you know a handful of those individuals.
Perhaps you’re suffering in silence or maybe its well known; undiagnosed, untreated or maybe the opposite. Regardless, many of us are juggling a mental illness along with our busy day to day lives. And, that’s the thing. We’re coping with it and going about life, trying to do the best we can - just like everybody else. There’s really no difference other than a chemical imbalance. It certainly doesn’t make us less capable of being contributing members of society. I actually believe quite the contrary. People with mental illness are quite bright and extremely creative. Those of us Adder’s are extremely creative, inventive and are amazingly successful when it comes to multitasking.
Sure, there are many arguments out there that ADHD doesn’t exist and that we’re just lazy scatter brains. To those, I will put this most eloquently as possible; go scratch.
And as for my ADHD’s best pal Depression - that exists too. We’re not just sad. Like I’ve stated before, it’s a chemical imbalance and only those that are uneducated and ignorant aren’t aware of that or don’t want to believe it because they’re intimidated by the unfamiliar.
I’ve decided to say this now because this is the second time in my life that I’m being publicly shamed by a large organization for having depression.
Upon arriving in Italy, yes, it was beautiful and picturesque. Maybe you even liked a few of the photos I posted on Facebook and instagram. But a picture can only tell so much. It’s been difficult. It’s been difficult because obtaining my medicine in Italy has been nearly impossible. I’m not allowed to have it shipped over, and so, I have to see doctors here. Having to do that means I had to expose myself to my school in Italy. I had to jump hurdles to get someone to comprehend what I was saying, not only because of the language barrier but because of the lack of education on this matter. That being said, I had to speak with a number of people before actually taking steps towards getting things I needed. Pretty much every one of the faculty and staff members are aware of my condition, as well as most of my classmates. Why my classmates? Because the school wouldn’t allow me to schedule my own appointments, nor would they support my request to schedule doctor visits on the same day… instead, they made me miss many classes due to a lack of their organization and thoughtlessness. It was difficult and it definitely hurt my stride in terms of passion in the kitchen but I shrugged it off and did the best I could anyway. I ended things in school with a smile on my face and good grades behind it.
But now things have gone too far. I’ve recently been told that because I have depression… I’m not fit for a work environment. This was said by one of those extremely educated and supportive gems back at school. Stunned. I am beyond shocked.. Not only am I disgusted and offended, but I’m so disappointed that an educational institution would believe that and furthermore, go so far as to say such a thing to one of their own students - International students at that. International students of whom are supposed to act as ambassadors when we leave. Ha!
The last time a large organization did this (to me) I filed a lawsuit and then dropped it in order to maintain my peace as I was about to set off on a 3 month journey across the world in hopes of spreading kindness through volunteerism. But a second time? I’m not dropping it, and that’s why I’ve decided to say something on my blog. It isn’t right, nor is it legal on US soil, to make such a discriminatory offense like that. It is in no way okay and if anyone has ever done that to you then please know that I’m with you, I stand behind you.
People battle, juggle, cope with, whatever you want to say - people live with mental illness every day. It isn’t easy but we should never be shamed for it, discriminated against because of it, and we should never ever be thought less of a person for that reason. Call me a bitch; tell me that my smile is crooked or I am a pain in the ass; tell me that I’m ugly or that you hate my soul. But don’t you dare ever try to make me, or anyone else with a mental illness, feel ashamed for it. I will not feel ashamed because I know better but that doesn’t make it right. Just because I have a good attitude, am informed and because I am strong doesn’t make it okay to make judgmental and discriminatory remarks like that. It will never be okay.
So if you’ve been diagnosed with some sort of mental illness, wave that flag high and to hell with the ignorant assholes out there that think something is wrong with you. I think you’re rad and I’m sure you know it too. If you think you’re suffering from depression, anxiety disorder or something else and curious about getting a better handle on it - reach out. There are tons of organizations, doctors and groups that diagnose, treat and monitor those battling mental illness and you shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed to use those tools and lifelines to your advantage. Just do it. You’ll be happy you did. If you have any questions about my diagnosis or my experiences -- again, reach out. I’m happy to share, as I am no longer ashamed to say I have depression. Wow, I just said it again! Big night for me over here. Ha. But, in all seriousness, I’ve lost a friend to suicide. Never do I take mental illness lightly and if you want help in finding the right help for you then I’ve got your back.
If you would like to donate and help the mission to one day live in a world without suicide; then go ahead and donate to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention (link below) in remembrance of my friend Kati who never got the help that I was lucky enough to receive. If you can’t do so at this time and want to show support and that you’re not down with discrimination then please comment with the hashtag #willnotbeshamed
I’ll leave you with a quote that my mother shared with me: “Injustice everywhere is a threat to justice everywhere” -- Martin Luther king
And that was it. That was the message I shared. I did not share this for a pat on the back nor any recognition. I shared this because I knew other people had felt exactly what I had. For whatever the reason, they felt some sort of shame or had been a victim of discrimination.
It has been five months since this post went live and I still receive messages of people wanting to share their story, ask for help or just vent. Again, that’s why I chose to share, because I knew I wasn’t the only one.
Culinary school has ended, I have done some more globe trotting and, now, I am home. It’s been just under two years of traveling and I’m ready to let my passport take a breather; and allow my loving father to stop worrying and get some sleep. However, I will not take a breather. I will not rest. I will continue to use my voice (as well as my blog) as a way to say discrimination is not okay. Or, if anything, just to try and motivate others living with mental illness -- you’re not alone and you ARE full of greatness.
In the last two years I’ve learned that there is not one person that is invincible. Each and every one of us is facing a battle. Every single person has a scar. There is not one person on this planet that wakes up in the morning that does not have that “thing” that once made waking up difficult. And although we all have the vulnerability to hurt, we all equally have the ability to be kind. Kindness. Understanding. Compassion. Empathy. Let’s spread that shit like wildfire.
Thank you for reading my story. It’s a pleasure to join the Her Well-wisher community and I appreciate the warm welcome.
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Sending love, luck & calm vibes.
