I’ve suffered with depression/anxiety since I was a teenager. It has gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I’m now heading into my mid-40s. I take medication, see a doctor and therapist. All in hopes of one day actually realizing life is worth living. For right now, I’m taking it day by day. After 25+ years one can truly admit that the natural order is to fight for life. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be here. Many of my friends and my entire family know of my mental disorders. Some would rather ignore it and others support me. However, it is interesting that when you have such extreme reactions to your illness, it brings about more anxiety. It’s such a nasty cycle. But one that I’ve been circling, so it’s best to keep a good pair of sneaks handy :)
I have struggled with depression and anxiety for the past 12 years. It led to dropping out of college and living in my parent’s basement for two years. I believed I had no friends, especially after my boyfriend left me due to my deep depression and inability to function normally. He didn’t bother to tell me he was leaving. After spending all of high school as best friends and two years of college as lovers, he left one day and stopped returning my calls. I only saw him one more time to return some of his possessions. It sent me deeper into depression and hopelessness. It took me another year to move upstairs into my childhood bedroom, make some new friends and generally begin turn my life around. I was lucky my parents were patient. I finished community college - not the bachelor’s degree I was originally going for, but it was something. I got a job. I slept with too many men simply because I wanted them. I felt empowered. I smoked a lot of weed. I drank. I tried antidepressants, but they made my head hurt so I stopped. I tried counseling, but it was too hard to talk about everything that had happened so I quit going. I quit a lot of things, but I didn’t quit smoking pot or drinking. I wanted to die, but my former boyfriend and I had adopted two kittens that I kept when he left. I told myself they needed me so I couldn’t hurt myself.
My family used to tell me for over half of my life that I needed to stop eating and i was “fat”. I struggled with eating disorders for over a year. On April 15th of this year, I overdosed on around 60 aspirin. I was in Children’s Hospital for 2 days and then admitted to a psych hospital for 14 days. I was diagnosed with major depression, anorexia nervosa, and bulimia nervosia. I went back in 2 weeks after I got out for severe self harm. They then added generalized anxiety order. I attempted suicide in the hospital and popped a blood vessel. I went home for a month after that and then returned for 4 suicide attempts in a two hour period because I was hearing voices. They added borderline personality traits and major depression with psychotic symptoms. I was sent to a placement home for up to 90 days.
Although they were horrible decisions, I wouldn’t take them back because they made me learn and I changed tremendously (for the better). If you notice yourself getting depressed, suicidal, or having any abnormal mental troubles, please please please tell someone so you can get help. Everyone has a purpose and you are apart of that everyone. people love you, as much as you think they don’t. Just because you use suicide to erase your pain, doesn’t mean the people’s around you is erased.
I wish good luck to all you beautiful souls. xo
For the past 2 years I’ve shared Facebook notes about why the NAMI Walk is so important to me. Looking back at them now, it’s a chronicle of how much my friend has been through in that time. Two years ago, she was in the same place that she’d been in for much of the time I’ve known her – chronically suicidal, wanting desperately to die but knowing that those feelings and the voices telling her to do it were a symptom of her mental illness. My note that year was about the 3 AM phone calls, and the incredibly insensitive (and dangerous) responses she got when she tried to reach out for help. By this time last year, she was in a very different place – lost in a period of psychosis, unable to have any kind of conversation that made sense – the result of professionals’ failure to take her (or me) seriously as the voices took over and she started to lose control. My note last year was about my realization of just how strong the stigma and discrimination against mental illness really is – that somebody fighting for her life and sanity could be so easily dismissed as “just trying to get attention.”
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When you become a member of NAMI, you become part of America's largest grassroots organization dedicated to improving the lives of persons living with serious mental illness. And now you can join online