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. 

The truth behind "It's not you, it's me."

The truth behind "It's not you, it's me."

I’ve heard mixed reviews about “13 Reasons Why.”  I’ve heard it is phenomenal and sheds a light on an issue that needs to be talked about all while somehow relating to everyone who watches. I’ve heard it glamorizes the after-effects of someone who was taken by suicide and paints a picture somewhat related to mental illnesses, but yet so far from mental illnesses.

It didn’t hit home for me until the 11th episode around 40 minutes in.

As a suicide attempt survivor and someone who continues to battle with severe depression, I couldn’t contain myself. I did not shed any emotion throughout the first 10 and a half episode until Hannah (the main character) said one thing.

“It’s not you, it’s me. You don’t want to be with someone like me.”

At this point, I had a flash back to every time I said that to someone. I flashed back to every time I said something like that to my family. I flashed back to everyone who did walk away when I said that. No questions asked, no conversing months after. I remember what ran through my head that made me say that. I remember the scenarios in my head that made them so miserable because they were trapped with me like they said they wanted to be. I also remember the relief of when they did leave. There went another life I wouldn’t ruin with my dreadful presence as a shitty ass human.

In my head, everyone who chose to make me a significant part of their life has no idea how shitty I am. They don’t understand the pain I cause or failures that dominate my life. They just see a pretty smiling face, a loud laugh, and the world’s best liar.

In that episode, Clay (the other main character) said the he will never leave and he loves her and he isn’t going anywhere. But he said that in his head after she already died by suicide. He started to blame himself then. He started saying that if he had said something at the time then maybe things would be different. He blamed himself for her choices.

This, is what hit home the most.

This, is why I keep secrets.

It took my until I was 23 to find a guy that didn’t go away when I told him to leave. (And I’m lucky to find someone like that this early in my life.)

But the reason why I don’t tell him where the cuts on my body come from is the same reason why I don’t tell my parents. They blame themselves.

My parents did when I went to the hospital after swallowing a bottle of pills, my friends did after they knew of what happened, even my brother did after he found one of my first suicide notes.

I love this man I am with and I knew it when I saw him eating a burrito that he brought to a bar when we were celebrating my friends birthday. I knew it then, burrito and all.

But what he doesn’t know is how hard this relationship has been on me. I have gone against everything that I feel. EVERYTHING. Loving him doesn’t come naturally. It is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

He has broken down walls that I was born with and that I was waaaay to attached to. But he did it and I let him. He has made me talk when I don’t want to but I need to. He makes me stop apologizing for everything that happens because he knows I will whether it is my fault or not. He makes sure I know when I am not in the wrong because he knows I blame myself for everything. Literally, everything.

Deep down, I know he knows what the scars and scabs and cuts are from. He is too smart to believe my lies, but I love him too much to tell him the truth.

This love that I have with him is not perfect because we are not perfect.

He sees my flaws and I see his, but he chooses to love me harder and harder each day. He choses not to leave.

That is one thing I never understood, and maybe I wont understand. That he is not trapped in this relationship. He is not stuck with me (the shitty human) for the rest of his life.

He chooses to be with me.

Everyday, he chooses to stay.

He choses to push me out of the darkness as much as he can, little by little. He also is learning that I won’t be able to completely leave the darkness that is my messed up mind.

But he holds my hand as we try to get as far away from the darkness as we can.

See what just happened?

He and I turned to we and us.

That’s what happens when someone refuses to leave your broken self;

They start to become the neon glue that puts your dark, broken self together.

And they choose to do that because they love you.

All of you.

The story of my scars

The story of my scars

I wish I could love Jaimie

I wish I could love Jaimie