Everyday Struggle
At a young age to the age of 15 I felt like I had a normal childhood but for some reason when I tried to look back at my childhood, for some reason I could bot remember. Around the age of 16 I began to feel different and I began to remember parts of my childhood. My father beating my mother, me and my brother getting beaten, and afraid to move because of not wanting to get beaten. These memories caused me to isolate myself and I was always called the “mole” of the house. If I didn’t have to leave my room I didn’t. I asked my mom if she knew what was going on with me and she told me “it’s just a phase,” but I couldn’t understand it. I told her I wasn’t happy and didn’t know why and that’s when the cutting began.
My mom was not concerned of my issue so I never brought it up again. I cut myself, burned myself, and started to abuse narcotics at the age of 16. It was the only way I could cope. After a few months I just couldn’t deal with it so I attempted suicide. I grabbed about 30 pills and chugged then down. My parents never checked up on me and they thought I was just being “the mole of the house again.”
A day and a half later I woke up and puked my brains out and no one in the home knew what even happened. I cried for days and asked God for forgiveness and after that I fought the depression by myself but it was still and struggle and I continued to self mutilate.
18 I left to college and took it to my own hands to find treatment. I was officially diagnosed with clinical depression and was prescribed medications. My family never understood. My dad found out I was cutting and called me stupid. I was completely alone.
At the age of 19 my younger brother committed suicide at the age of 17. My father found him hanging in my room, the same room I tried to commit suicide. After that, I lost all care of life. I began abusing drugs again, drinking, and became extremely sexually active. I didn’t care. I felt like a shell of a body. But due to that traumatic experience, my mother finally realized mental illnesses were real and came along with my journey of battling mental illness. She did not want to lose her only baby she had left.
I had bouts of good days and bad days after that. I started boxing and then stopped and became severely depressed. I stopped due to an injury caused from a car accident. At age 21 my mother had heart surgery and I became her primary caretaker. I was amazing at taking care of her but not myself. That same year I was baker acted after losing all care of life and thought of suicide.
That next week, my mom helped me pay to get into EMT school and it was a major blessing. After my brother committed suicide I wanted to be one of the first responders to save lives. I have now been an EMT for 2 years and it has been so fulfilling. This month I just completed my final for Paramedic school but that year of school was a year from hell. Last January I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and it still is a struggle. I have had my meds changed three times in the past five months.
Everyday is a struggle but my boyfriend and mother have been through it all along the way. My extreme mania episodes, random crying spells, and severe depression. Support and purpose in life as a first responder has kept me alive. It still is not easy but day by day I keep pushing and hey, I’m still here.
On September 9rd 2003, my doctor diagnosed me with Bipolar Disorder I . (Bipolar II is mostly depression with some manic episodes. Bipolar I is full blown mania with little depression.