Charley Ann Gittins: the Social Bee

At age six, Charley experienced her first bee sting.

For you or I, this moment in time may seem insignificant. Its equivalent to recalling the first time one spilled milk or learned to jump rope. However, for Charley, that bee sting is where her story begins.

Speed up to the present. It’s 2:56pm on a Friday afternoon, as I enter a local coffee shop, searching for the curly-haired bundle of joy I know as Charley Ann Gittins. I spot her in the back, furiously scribbling in a leather notebook. As I weave between crowded tables, Charley graciously doesn’t laugh when I embarrassingly collide into who appears to be the owner of the place. Bursting forth with caffeinated energy and anticipation, she greets me with a hug. Nice save, friend. In the few years I’ve known Charley, her bold, welcoming spirit has rescued me on multiple occasions. It began my first day as the new eleventh grade student at her high school and has continuously blessed me since. Some call her a social butterfly, but I’ll more playfully refer to her as a social bee.

“Are you staring at my tattoo?” Charley laughs, as we sip coffee and chat. The scientific illustration of a honey bee inked on her inner wrist is breath-taking. I admit my distraction, then unashamedly ask if she can retell the meaning behind her tattoo. Charley smiles, as she jumps into the beloved story.

Age six, Charley notes, was when she became aware of her mental disorders. As a small first grader, her anxiety was so intense that she frequently cried at school and preferred to be alone. Shyness, however, wasn’t the only reason she opted to eat lunch inside with the teacher. The bee sting she experienced earlier that year festered a fear for the outdoors. Eating outside not only meant being surrounded by numerous peers, but the potential to be stung once more. After careful consideration, her parents crafted two plausible solutions: to home school Charley and organize a trip to a local bee farm. Both had beneficial outcomes. Home schooled Charley was less afraid, more boisterous, and more ambitious. Even the trip to the bee farm went well. “Bees freaked me out. My parents’ philosophy was ‘If you are scared about it, learn about it.’” That’s when Charley learned how bees made honey. “Once I realized they weren’t ‘bad,’ they became a symbol of hope, progress, and growth.” Charley then tells me her family has bought her bee

mementos ever since, including necklaces, note cards, and of course honey. “Yeah, I know, its funny. I’m a vegan who eats honey.” We laugh.

Although her fear of bees resolved, Charley’s mental health issues did not disappear. Her list of diagnoses steadily grew. Being reintroduced into public school in eighth grade seemed to aggravate her mental state. “However, I’m glad it happened then and not later.” Since her early years of high school she has battled generalized anxiety, social anxiety, depression, obsessive compulsive tendencies, an eating disorder, and the trauma of an abusive relationship. Drug treatments, nutritional plans, group therapy sessions, individual counseling – you name it, Charley’s tried it. She finds comfort in diagnostic information, strongly living out the learn about it philosophy. Her “Santa-chiatrist,” the psychiatrist she saw in high school who dawned a white beard, encouraged this curiosity. “I would ask why do I have social anxiety if I’m social? It can’t just be that.” He provided more context and more understanding to her case. Although she enjoyed his advice, this past winter she decided to forgo prescription medication. “I feel lighter not taking them.” She describes her anxiety and depression as waves. “Some days you can’t get out of bed – other days you want to get up and run! Everyone always focuses on the parts where you can’t, but the parts that are most prominent is when you do get up. I think ‘I’m so happy in this moment,’ but I know I’ll be sad later. Why can’t it always be like this? But you just have to enjoy it while it lasts.”

Yet, the woman who sits before me, sipping her iced Chai is one of the most delightful individuals I’ve met. I find myself asking, how?

“Even the worst days only have twenty-four hours. No matter what happens, it’s going to end, and I know something great is going to come.” Charley also keeps herself busy and moving. Drawn to taking care of others, in specific children, she is never short of imagining new projects to do some good in the world. She considers this her new form of therapy. “For me, taking care of others does help me...I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life, but as long as I’m helping people, I’m doing something.”

I ask her if she feels like we live in a society that victimizes her and others with mental disorders? “Yes! I just told [someone] the other day ‘Don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m a tough cookie, sometimes I just need some help.’ It’s nice when someone can respect that.”

We part ways with another hug and genuine promise to do this again soon.

Charley is truly a social bee – she is always hard at work, spreading sweetness wherever she goes. Yet, a look into her story is such a small slice of the multidimensional picture of living life with mental health disorders. Everyone’s case is different, whether in severity, treatment, or response. Some do not have the opportunity to stop taking medication or go to work daily, like Charley. However, many individuals living with a mental disorder continue to lead fulfilling lives. I guarantee, you know someone like this, even if you or others are actually unaware of their abnormal mental health. Charley’s story speaks loudly that the essence of an individual is not their diagnosis. They are beautiful people, like you and I, with a plan and purpose in life. So we must treat them as such – not victims who will shatter, but people with immense vitality and strength to press on.

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