CONTENT WARNING: discusses depression, self-harm, and suicide.
If you or anyone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please reach out to me or call 1-800-273-8255 (National Suicide Prevention Hotline), or visit their website http://chat.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/.
Once again, this post is more for me than for anyone else. I just felt like I needed to get my thoughts down because they float around my head all day and all night.
In addition, this is stuff I have never discussed with anyone, except my husband. But I feel like maybe, if I share what I've been through, that someone out there may feel like they're not alone in the world.
I feel like I have experienced every dark corner of depression. I know I haven't, but the symptoms are as varied as each of those struggling are, and I feel like throughout my life I've kind of run the gamut. Every different kind of depression is a fresh version of hell for anyone who is struggling with it.
I remember the first time I self harmed. I was in seventh grade, and was experiencing my first round of horrific bullying. I felt incredibly alone. Worthless. Ugly. Socially inept. I hated myself with every fiber of my being and just felt the need to punish myself for existing. I was always too nervous to cut much, because the last thing I wanted to do was to talk about what I was feeling. In addition, the one time I showed a friend I had a the time, she openly laughed at me and called my attempts pathetic, rolling her own sleeve up and showing how a "proper" cutter did things. Great, I thought. I can't even cut the way I'm supposed to. I shut my mouth after that, and even if I didn't openly cut again for a few years, I fantasized often about it.
That same year was my first (rather poor) attempt to take my own life. I'm grateful I didn't know what it took to die, because if I had I probably would have gone through with it. I didn't even end up seriously harming myself, but the intent was there. I remember after losing my temper at one of my bullies I yelled at her that I had tried to kill myself the day before. I got sent to the school counselor's office, who seemed very uncomfortable and I managed to talk him out of calling my parents. That was the only time my depression was ever discussed or noticed by any person who may have been able to help.
Although my self-harm and suicide attempts waned off after that point for a time, I spent the majority of my teenage years in the trenches of depression. I would frequently get in trouble for not doing my homework, because I had no motivation. I often seemed like a happy, cheerful person, when in reality I was miserable. I got really good at putting on a mask. Everything around me told me I had no right to feel the way I felt - I came from a wonderful family, I was good at school when I wanted to be. I grew up with the religious culture around me telling me that I would be happy if I followed God's commandments, and yet nothing I did ever brought me to a truly "happy" state. I felt like a failure and a liar, because I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what was going on. I always was the one answering the questions in Sunday School and seminary, I served as a youth leader throughout my teenage years, and by any outside eye, my testimony was rock solid.
My demons never went away. My coping mechanisms have varied from the aforementioned self harm (I've been clean for over a year now, I'm really proud), not eating, overeating, lethargy, being overbusy, and crying myself to sleep. The demons always told me I wasn't good enough. I always believe them. We are well acquainted with each other. I have seriously attempted to take my own life two more times, and if I were to get to that point again, I know how I would finish myself off. I don't have access to the guns in our homes because my husband is scared of what I'll do if I did.
Lately, the demons have been working on me through exhaustion. Most days, I lay around the house with little to no motivation. Sure, I get everything I absolutely have to done, but I feel exhausted and lazy and guilty every single day. Some days are better than others, true. Sometimes I can keep myself so busy that the emptiness doesn't hit me until my husband is snoring next to me in the middle of the night. Depression has a lot of faces.
I've been through a lot of ups and downs with my depression. Lately, although I've been clean from self-harm, I've had continual thoughts and wishes to not exist. I know that I don't really want this, because of the guilt that comes after it. I don't really want to not exist because I'm having a baby, I have an amazing husband and family that would be devastated if I stopped existing. I know I'm loved! And I have a lot of people I love in return. But none of those reasons to stick around are actually about me.
I've tried a lot of things to help myself. With the encouragement of some close friends, I sought out a psychiatrist and am now taking medication to help balance my brain chemicals. It's a start. I've also noticed that I am happier when I advocate for others, which is probably why I'm disclosing this much in the first place. It's also why I'm going to be a social worker.
Where is this going? You might be asking. Don't worry, I'm asking myself that too. I'm assuming this is going in the direction of a "you can do it!" post. I don't know though. I know that medication and therapy have helped me, but they definitely haven't "cured" me of anything. I honestly don't think I will ever be happy and whole, even if I want to be. I will never be normal, no matter how hard I try.
I guess where I'm going with this is that even though I know I probably will never be normal, I still definitely have happy moments. I've learned to cling to them like lifelines! I hold onto the moments when my baby girl kicks, or when I can turn over and see my sweetheart sleeping peacefully. There are times I laugh myself to tears. I am sooooo close to finishing my bachelors degree and I feel incredibly blessed to be going into a profession where I can help people. None of these things makes my depression go away, and honestly, when I'm in the middle of a bad time, they don't even make it any better. What these good things do is make the in-between times worth living.
I had a friend tell me once that she got through her hard times by finding something to look forward to every week. It could be something as little as making to the weekend when you can sleep in. For me, what's kept me going this last little while has been my baby's doctor's appointments. Knowing I get to see and hear my little one every month has motivated me to make it from one appointment to the next. In the past, it's been something as small as promising myself ice cream for surviving through the day's tasks (I'm a firm believer in bribery).
What I guess I'm trying to say is hold on just a little bit longer. It may not be okay, honestly. It may not get better. You may only be going from day to day because, like me, you feel like you have an obligation to for those you care about. But just know that you're not alone in your battle. You are strong, brave, and facing more than most people could ever imagine, because your demons are inside you. They are with you constantly, and anytime you let your guard down they crowd into your head telling you what you already know to be true. If you can survive from one day to the next fighting this kind of ongoing battle, you are a hero. You are a survivor. You are stronger than many, many people in this world.
Most importantly, you don't fight alone. It feels that way, I know. No one can be in your mind with you, but you have friends, family, and strangers cheering you on with every fiber of their being. I'm cheering you on, whoever you are. Just make it one more day. Find one more moment to hold on to. I have to believe that someday it will be a little better than today.
If you or anyone you know is struggling with thoughts of suicide, please reach out to me or call 1-800-273-8255 (National Suicide Prevention Hotline), or visit their website http://chat.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/.
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Once again, this post is more for me than for anyone else. I just felt like I needed to get my thoughts down because they float around my head all day and all night.
In addition, this is stuff I have never discussed with anyone, except my husband. But I feel like maybe, if I share what I've been through, that someone out there may feel like they're not alone in the world.
 |
| This is me, today. Well, yesterday, as I'm writing this. |
I remember the first time I self harmed. I was in seventh grade, and was experiencing my first round of horrific bullying. I felt incredibly alone. Worthless. Ugly. Socially inept. I hated myself with every fiber of my being and just felt the need to punish myself for existing. I was always too nervous to cut much, because the last thing I wanted to do was to talk about what I was feeling. In addition, the one time I showed a friend I had a the time, she openly laughed at me and called my attempts pathetic, rolling her own sleeve up and showing how a "proper" cutter did things. Great, I thought. I can't even cut the way I'm supposed to. I shut my mouth after that, and even if I didn't openly cut again for a few years, I fantasized often about it.
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| This is when I crashed and burned |
Although my self-harm and suicide attempts waned off after that point for a time, I spent the majority of my teenage years in the trenches of depression. I would frequently get in trouble for not doing my homework, because I had no motivation. I often seemed like a happy, cheerful person, when in reality I was miserable. I got really good at putting on a mask. Everything around me told me I had no right to feel the way I felt - I came from a wonderful family, I was good at school when I wanted to be. I grew up with the religious culture around me telling me that I would be happy if I followed God's commandments, and yet nothing I did ever brought me to a truly "happy" state. I felt like a failure and a liar, because I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone what was going on. I always was the one answering the questions in Sunday School and seminary, I served as a youth leader throughout my teenage years, and by any outside eye, my testimony was rock solid.
My demons never went away. My coping mechanisms have varied from the aforementioned self harm (I've been clean for over a year now, I'm really proud), not eating, overeating, lethargy, being overbusy, and crying myself to sleep. The demons always told me I wasn't good enough. I always believe them. We are well acquainted with each other. I have seriously attempted to take my own life two more times, and if I were to get to that point again, I know how I would finish myself off. I don't have access to the guns in our homes because my husband is scared of what I'll do if I did.
Lately, the demons have been working on me through exhaustion. Most days, I lay around the house with little to no motivation. Sure, I get everything I absolutely have to done, but I feel exhausted and lazy and guilty every single day. Some days are better than others, true. Sometimes I can keep myself so busy that the emptiness doesn't hit me until my husband is snoring next to me in the middle of the night. Depression has a lot of faces.
I've been through a lot of ups and downs with my depression. Lately, although I've been clean from self-harm, I've had continual thoughts and wishes to not exist. I know that I don't really want this, because of the guilt that comes after it. I don't really want to not exist because I'm having a baby, I have an amazing husband and family that would be devastated if I stopped existing. I know I'm loved! And I have a lot of people I love in return. But none of those reasons to stick around are actually about me.
I've tried a lot of things to help myself. With the encouragement of some close friends, I sought out a psychiatrist and am now taking medication to help balance my brain chemicals. It's a start. I've also noticed that I am happier when I advocate for others, which is probably why I'm disclosing this much in the first place. It's also why I'm going to be a social worker.
Where is this going? You might be asking. Don't worry, I'm asking myself that too. I'm assuming this is going in the direction of a "you can do it!" post. I don't know though. I know that medication and therapy have helped me, but they definitely haven't "cured" me of anything. I honestly don't think I will ever be happy and whole, even if I want to be. I will never be normal, no matter how hard I try.
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| Add two cats to this picture and you've got my happy family! |
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| Yes, it's a Doctor Who quote. No, I don't care. |
What I guess I'm trying to say is hold on just a little bit longer. It may not be okay, honestly. It may not get better. You may only be going from day to day because, like me, you feel like you have an obligation to for those you care about. But just know that you're not alone in your battle. You are strong, brave, and facing more than most people could ever imagine, because your demons are inside you. They are with you constantly, and anytime you let your guard down they crowd into your head telling you what you already know to be true. If you can survive from one day to the next fighting this kind of ongoing battle, you are a hero. You are a survivor. You are stronger than many, many people in this world.
Most importantly, you don't fight alone. It feels that way, I know. No one can be in your mind with you, but you have friends, family, and strangers cheering you on with every fiber of their being. I'm cheering you on, whoever you are. Just make it one more day. Find one more moment to hold on to. I have to believe that someday it will be a little better than today.
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