Authors

I am an educated woman. I come from a family that is educated and hard working.

But my family still is affected by many mental diseases in each generation.

It does not discriminate. 

starting is the hardest part

starting is the hardest part

Where and how do you start a conversation about depression?

How do you tell someone that you can't be somewhere or do something because it triggers your anxiety?

Where is the guidebook for all of this?

I have been battling this disease for nearly two decades. I honestly, cannot remember what it is like to not fake every part of my life to make myself sound better or to convince people that I did love myself.

When I was younger I would copy people and change myself in seconds. Now that I am older, I listen to others tell me what I am good at or what I should do with my life. I listen because they must be right. I obviously don't know anything. I trust every other persons opinion about me, more than I trust my own.

That doesn't sound like a happy life does it?

It's not.

I am never truly myself. I can never express myself. I cannot even think for myself. If I would think for myself I wouldn't be here. I would choose not to be here, just like I tried so many years ago.

When I was a freshman in high school I tried to kill myself. I thought that it was a mistake and I moved on. But the struggle continued, and worsened in time.

Now at 23, I am trying to figure out exactly how to live my life.

it took years and nearly a decade after leaving that hospital bed to realize I am not ok. It took my mother pleading for my life, years of crying on my little brother shoulder, hundreds of healed scars, and many many times of God calling my name to get to the point to talk about it now.

It has taken decades of hating myself, harming myself, and ignoring everyone to get to where I am.

It's not like I haven't talked about it before. But it was always me explaining how I overcame my problems. It was me telling other people stories on how I helped them through the darkest parts of their lives. It was me saying how great I am now. It was essentially, me lying.

FYI, I am not great now.

I am breaking and I can't find the pieces.  The last time I was like this, I ended up in a hospital bed for a night with my mother crying in the chair next to me.

This time is only different because I am not a risk. I won't repeat what has happened before. I won't put my parents through it again. I will never go back to the hospital bed.

I know I have worth and purpose. I just can't see it.

After years of lying to people saying that I know how great I am, I am coming clean and being honest. After too many compliments that I don't believe I wont shrug them off with an awkward "Thank you" anymore. After 140 some credit classes of people telling me I am so good at something, I am not listening to people who don't truly know me anymore.

This is me saying that I can't do this. But, this is me trying. This is my promise to the world that I will never give up again. I will follow the path the God is leading me down, and I will not give up. I am starting another journey at one of the lowest time in my life. 

I am also making it public.

I am making it raw.

I am not candy coating anything.

People haven't seen me for who I am yet, and they sure as shit will now.

Here is the first of many long, emotional word vomits after the second mental breakdown of the day.

Here is the first of many glasses of wine to help with my nerves.

Here is to the rest of this terrifying and unknown journey that I call my life.

But most of all,

here is too my family. I live for them and all their unconditional love.

 

Tuesdays

Tuesdays