The Effect of It All *Trigger Warning*

The date was October 19th, 2014. It was a Sunday morning, the day I was going to get up, say hello to my mother and father, put on a nice dress and get in the car and go to church. Instead I woke up with my mother missing and a terribly worried father. At around 11:00am, I think the time is confusing, a blur almost. I do remember this clearly though, the face of my father and pastor as they walked into our “bonus room,” and told me my mother had died. She shot herself, I learned later that day, even though I wasn’t supposed to know, to protect me, I know. I didn’t feel anything but I cried, I think I only did because my father did. Cause of death: mental illness.

I don’t remember much of the rest of fifth grade, except that I had a lot of headaches. I hardly remember sixth grade besides the fact that I had a few breakdowns in class, I felt embarrassed almost, for feeling the way I did, the last thing I wanted was to be known as the “girl whos mom died.” I decided to move schools and get a fresh start and it was a good decision for the most part, but seventh grade was where the effects of the trauma engulfed me and I was drowning.

In December of 2016, I had a poor relationship with my father, we would fight a lot and he seemed to be always angry. I was not close with my father and my sisters and I’s relationship was still budding. I felt terribly alone. I felt small, not apart of my family. Since I no longer had someone to express my feelings to or someone to understand in general, I broke. I felt useless, I felt like there was this cloud over me, a pressure, a unwelcomed presence. I was nervous for the next fight always, and sprouting from that I was anxious over everything, waking up on time, losing friends, being alone, but sometimes being alone was the most welcoming thing, even though I hated it. I started to hate myself, every little thing. And this cloud over me, because like a close friend, they would never leave my side, I knew that, so I befriended this feeling. 

It started to become too much for me at the end of December so I resorted to self harm, I knew I needed help and tried to but my thoughts told me that I was selfish for asking others to deal with me and “asking for attention,” but I knew that I needed help. I was literally drowning and It was so hard to breathe and catch my breath. I finally told some of my friends and they desperately wanted me to get help, but I was terrified on how my father would react, so I kept saying no to everyone. I thought I could fix this by myself but I knew I couldn’t, so after two months, I didn’t want this dark cloud to be my friend, I wanted to be better. 

My dad didn’t yell when I told him, which I think was the worst part, he was quiet and kept asking me if I wanted to kill myself. I lied and said no, I couldn’t say that to him. I thought about going to a mental hospital but my dad didn’t want me to, so I pushed it off. I got on medication but I relapsed a lot. Self harming and locking myself away. The medicine didn’t work and I would get sick and sick. My seventh grade ex broke up with me in March and created rumors about me, I relapsed again. But I pushed myself to get better.

I am now a sophomore in High school, I have continuously tried to improve myself and have been clean for about six months. I still have extremely low lows but also have the extremely high highs. I have learned to identify my emotions so I can deal with them. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and an anxiety disorder in the end of seventh grade. My father and I have a happy relationship even though he still has troubles dealing with my illnesses, brushing them off as nothing, but he will learn. I am in a happy relationship and feel so much love. I struggle everyday but I now identify my depression and anxiety as a toxic friend, who I am slowly trying to push away. I see a therapist once a month and even dream of being one. I am feeling much happier than I was and am trying to identify the root of my problems.

Never having a normal mother and daughter relationship, I still struggle with that a lot. Remembering the things my mother did when she was in her terrible mental state, brings me troubles but I have come to peace with it, or I just haven’t dug it up yet. But I have learned so many things within this time.

Never take someone for granted, you hear it a lot I know, but it’s true. Everyone in your life was there for a reason, a lesson for you to learn. Cherish the time you have with the ones you love because they can be here and gone so soon. 

Never treat your mental illness and sadness as nothing. Your emotions are valid,and you must identify them before it’s too late. The stigma behind mental illness is so prominent and to break the stigma, you have to be open. You can not heal unless you want to and until you recognize that you are allowed to feel things. You are allowed to be sad, you are allowed to feel things, and never feel that you have to hide it.

Overall, the effect that an experience can have on you is different for everyone and comes at different times. But when it does, getting through it and focusing on yourself is what matters. Always put your own mental health first, because even though I have a long way to go, I’m finally becoming happy again.