Adventurous. Adjective. Definition: Inclined to undertake new and daring enterprises.
I do not want to get to the end of my life and think "I wish I would have done it differently." I don't want to be old and bitter. I want to live now. I want to acknowledge that life is short and that embracing every moment of it is critical. I hope to grow old and have a house and children. But what if I don't? What if I contract a fatal disease tomorrow and am told I have 3 weeks to live? What would I do? And why am I not doing it now?
Living without regret isn't living recklessly. It's living. Plain and simple. It's making the best of your life. It's making the life you've been given, what it was created to be...beautiful.
I know I've talked about this before: my "mom" relentlessly follows her dreams. She's adventurous and courageous and she's set an awesome example for me. Even before we were mother-daughter, she taught me to dream as big as I want. She taught me that dreams can become reality. And she never let a no stop her - she only let it push her further.
My wife is a good example of this as well. She was the ideal student. Everything she accomplished in her undergraduate program was geared towards moving on to graduate school. However, when the time came to apply, nearly every person she spoke with and every school she applied to told her that she would need a year worth of "professional experience" before she could be admitted into their program. She didn't care what they said. We spent hours together researching programs and their admission criteria. We were prepared to move cross-country if we had to. And we were prepared to not give up...no matter what. When that acceptance letter finally came, it was a BIG achievement.
I'm proud of the examples that have been set for me. My mom and my wife are happy with the decisions that they've made. Even when things didn't turn out as they'd expected, or when something wasn't as it had seemed, they both have held their heads high knowing that they don't have to spend the rest of their lives wondering if they had missed an opportunity.
I don't know what my dreams are yet. I don't have my life planned out. I know that I want children and a home. I know that I want to see the world. But I don't know where I'll be in 5 years. Hell, I don't know where I'll be next year! I do know, whatever I decide, I have some pretty supportive people standing behind me. They've always believe in my abilities and let me follow my own path. I'm sure if my mom were planning my life for me, I wouldn't have been in beauty school. She would have put me in Loyola or Brown...but when I approached her with the idea of Aveda, I had her full support. She asked me if it was what I wanted and if it would make me happy. That's all that mattered to her. Really, that's all that should matter to anyone!
As January approaches, I know that I will be enrolling in school again. I don't know what classes I'm going to take. I don't know if I'll obtain my associates degree and stop there or move on and go further. I don't know if I'll ever use my degree or continue on my current path. I do know that education is important to me. I have an innate desire to learn and I'm good at school. It feels good to embark on something that you know you're good at. I know that learning makes me happy. And by the standards of those who matter, that's all that's important in this world.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Many Thanks
"The best performance of your life. Walking through day after day knowing that you've got something deep down that's so disturbing, you don't know how to describe it and you don't know how to ask for help. So, you give the best performance of your life. And then you go home and cry. Your soul can't take the pain anymore and your heart is so heavy. The life you've always dreamed of seems so far out of reach. You feel worthless and you can't even fathom feeling worthy again. Your brain is irrational and your grasp on reality is unclear. But still, you give the best performance of your life. You look fine. You might even look good. But the war going on inside of you is merely masked, not reconciled. You can't ask for help. How would you? So, you give the best performance of your life. And then, you fall. You risk everything to ask for help, but help mocks you. So, you spend hours lying on the bathroom floor, not knowing when the pain will end...to feel nothing would be better than feeling THIS. You don't sleep or eat or move. You breathe. And wonder. How can you stop giving the best performance of your life?"
This is a journal entry from one of my darkest times. About an hour after this was written, I consumed 35, 50mg tablets of Vistaril. I should have died. I did the research. My heart should have stopped within about 10 minutes of consumption. Everything was supposed to end. But I didn't account for one thing...a really good college suitemate. She saved my life. She called EMS and my counselor and got people involved. She was my advocate. In the hospital, my doctors were my advocate. When I left the hospital, my "mom" was my advocate. Carissa acted really angry with me as soon as she found out. I know, looking back on the situation, she wasn't mad. She was worried. She didn't know what to say, but she had to say something. So, she was angry: "Why didn't you call me? I would've driven to Columbia. You have to tell me! I can't just know from 200 miles away what's going on in your life!" What she meant was, I love you and I'm glad you're okay...but please let me be there for you next time. She was my advocate.
When I moved back to Burlington, I had a team of advocates and they were all healthy for me in different ways. I had Carissa- my dose of reality. A hard ass when she needs to be and a loving hug or should to cry on when she doesn't. I had Jordan- my wife and my rock. I can share my pain with her when I can't handle it. Someone to help carry the load. I had Emily- my counselor and my point of view. I can share my darkest thoughts with her and she sheds light on situations and gives me the tools to work through them. I had Bekka Woods- she just understands. Always. I had Lachelle and Jessica- my professional development team at Aveda...who kept me in school and gave my life depth and purpose. They made me feel like I could and (more importantly) DESERVED to be successful. I had friends and family that held my hand and helped me work through day to day issues. They know my triggers and my signals and they keep an eye out for me.
Now, being in Hickory, I have more independence, but in the same token, I have more support. I still have everyone from Burlington behind me. I still have everyone from Columbia behind me. I have a new group of people who love and care for me too though. I've met new friends and have new interests, but I still have the team of people that raised me up in my darkest hours. I also have a new found sense of self-sustainability. I can take care of me...and I do a good job of it. I don't feel bad very often. In fact, I'm probably the happiest I've ever been. I still have bad days and bad things still happen. I even have small bouts with depression. And not every task is easy. But I can take it day by day and I have the best team behind me when I feel like I can't do it anymore. I know who I am and where I've come from. I also know that I'm not all that I'm ever going to be. There are trials to come. But there are joys to come. And I can see both, clearly.
I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for my advocates. Medications and therapy are all great tools, but having someone there when those things fail are something that all mental health patients should have prepared. Acknowledge that you can't handle some things. Acknowledge that you aren't strong enough to deal...yet! Know that you have the tools and you're preparing to fight, but don't leave your army behind! Would you go to war alone? Take your gun, take your shield...but don't forget your backup. Call in your reinforcements.
Today, I want to thank the support that I have in my life. I want to thank the kind words and soft hearts. I also want to thank the people that pushed me, when I thought I couldn't go further. I want to thank the people who asked for help FOR me...because they knew I wouldn't. I want to thank the people that have kept me alive. And I want to thank the people that allow me to share my stories.
"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." -JFK
This is a journal entry from one of my darkest times. About an hour after this was written, I consumed 35, 50mg tablets of Vistaril. I should have died. I did the research. My heart should have stopped within about 10 minutes of consumption. Everything was supposed to end. But I didn't account for one thing...a really good college suitemate. She saved my life. She called EMS and my counselor and got people involved. She was my advocate. In the hospital, my doctors were my advocate. When I left the hospital, my "mom" was my advocate. Carissa acted really angry with me as soon as she found out. I know, looking back on the situation, she wasn't mad. She was worried. She didn't know what to say, but she had to say something. So, she was angry: "Why didn't you call me? I would've driven to Columbia. You have to tell me! I can't just know from 200 miles away what's going on in your life!" What she meant was, I love you and I'm glad you're okay...but please let me be there for you next time. She was my advocate.
When I moved back to Burlington, I had a team of advocates and they were all healthy for me in different ways. I had Carissa- my dose of reality. A hard ass when she needs to be and a loving hug or should to cry on when she doesn't. I had Jordan- my wife and my rock. I can share my pain with her when I can't handle it. Someone to help carry the load. I had Emily- my counselor and my point of view. I can share my darkest thoughts with her and she sheds light on situations and gives me the tools to work through them. I had Bekka Woods- she just understands. Always. I had Lachelle and Jessica- my professional development team at Aveda...who kept me in school and gave my life depth and purpose. They made me feel like I could and (more importantly) DESERVED to be successful. I had friends and family that held my hand and helped me work through day to day issues. They know my triggers and my signals and they keep an eye out for me.
Now, being in Hickory, I have more independence, but in the same token, I have more support. I still have everyone from Burlington behind me. I still have everyone from Columbia behind me. I have a new group of people who love and care for me too though. I've met new friends and have new interests, but I still have the team of people that raised me up in my darkest hours. I also have a new found sense of self-sustainability. I can take care of me...and I do a good job of it. I don't feel bad very often. In fact, I'm probably the happiest I've ever been. I still have bad days and bad things still happen. I even have small bouts with depression. And not every task is easy. But I can take it day by day and I have the best team behind me when I feel like I can't do it anymore. I know who I am and where I've come from. I also know that I'm not all that I'm ever going to be. There are trials to come. But there are joys to come. And I can see both, clearly.
I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for my advocates. Medications and therapy are all great tools, but having someone there when those things fail are something that all mental health patients should have prepared. Acknowledge that you can't handle some things. Acknowledge that you aren't strong enough to deal...yet! Know that you have the tools and you're preparing to fight, but don't leave your army behind! Would you go to war alone? Take your gun, take your shield...but don't forget your backup. Call in your reinforcements.
Today, I want to thank the support that I have in my life. I want to thank the kind words and soft hearts. I also want to thank the people that pushed me, when I thought I couldn't go further. I want to thank the people who asked for help FOR me...because they knew I wouldn't. I want to thank the people that have kept me alive. And I want to thank the people that allow me to share my stories.
"As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them." -JFK
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Sharing Strength
"We are going to have to let the truth scream louder to our souls than the lies that have infected us." -Beth Moore
I have a heart that truly feels. But it seems to be that the ability to feel joy is balanced out conversely with the ability to feel pain. From a young age, I remember having feelings of elation that would quickly give way to deep melancholy, with no time frame as to when I would receive relief. But I could still feel.
When my depression began, it started with anxiety. Then I felt painful, heart-wrenching anguish...then nothing. I felt nothing. Sadness was gone, happiness was gone. I was left with nothing. It was as if my humanity and everything I understood about myself was stripped from me. I was breathing, but I wasn't alive. It was months before I felt anything and the first feeling I had was anger. I had no clue what I was angry about or even how to express it, but I was mad! Not bitter, not violent, just furious. Eventually, that anger was resolved and I was able to feel other things like grief and pain. Then, I was able to feel joy and love. I regained understanding of myself and who I am as a person.
Through this, I learned a powerful truth -- when we gain solace from our struggles, we have a unique ability to share that solace with others. Since then, I have been able to share my experience and try to give hope to those who could find none.
This week, my feelings have been in overdrive. My heart has been heavy. Tears have been abundant. I haven't been very patient and I haven't been very encouraging. I haven't been empathetic or understanding. I've tried to "fly under the radar," for lack of a better phrase. It's been my goal to be unnoticed, and simply survive.
Matthew's funeral is Friday. While the event itself won't be pleasant or easy, I do think it will be healing. I think that there will be a part of me that finds solace in being united with others who feel what I'm feeling and hurt like I'm hurting. Though we will be together because we have experienced a tragedy, we will be together nonetheless. We will be able to share our stories and experiences, and in the process, we will share strength.
I have a heart that truly feels. But it seems to be that the ability to feel joy is balanced out conversely with the ability to feel pain. From a young age, I remember having feelings of elation that would quickly give way to deep melancholy, with no time frame as to when I would receive relief. But I could still feel.
When my depression began, it started with anxiety. Then I felt painful, heart-wrenching anguish...then nothing. I felt nothing. Sadness was gone, happiness was gone. I was left with nothing. It was as if my humanity and everything I understood about myself was stripped from me. I was breathing, but I wasn't alive. It was months before I felt anything and the first feeling I had was anger. I had no clue what I was angry about or even how to express it, but I was mad! Not bitter, not violent, just furious. Eventually, that anger was resolved and I was able to feel other things like grief and pain. Then, I was able to feel joy and love. I regained understanding of myself and who I am as a person.
Through this, I learned a powerful truth -- when we gain solace from our struggles, we have a unique ability to share that solace with others. Since then, I have been able to share my experience and try to give hope to those who could find none.
This week, my feelings have been in overdrive. My heart has been heavy. Tears have been abundant. I haven't been very patient and I haven't been very encouraging. I haven't been empathetic or understanding. I've tried to "fly under the radar," for lack of a better phrase. It's been my goal to be unnoticed, and simply survive.
Matthew's funeral is Friday. While the event itself won't be pleasant or easy, I do think it will be healing. I think that there will be a part of me that finds solace in being united with others who feel what I'm feeling and hurt like I'm hurting. Though we will be together because we have experienced a tragedy, we will be together nonetheless. We will be able to share our stories and experiences, and in the process, we will share strength.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Hang in There
Facebook has been glum today. It's looked a little something like this:
"Brown Summit is hurting and in pain."
"I just can't stop asking myself why. This is so unreal."
"Still teary eyed. So hard to grasp. You've left many in confusion."
"I can't describe the hurt right now."
"The class of 2010 will never be the same."
It goes on and on. I'm sure many of you have seen the same posts. Some of you may have even posted something similar to this. Brown Summit truly is hurting...this event truly is painful.
The death of Matthew Johnson has really torn my hometown up. It's also brought many together. Today, I've been struggling with how preventable this was. I think back to how long it's been since I've seen him. I wonder why we lost touch and what could have gone differently. He was my cousin. For 10 years, he lived 3 houses down from me. I hurt for his sister. I hurt for his parents. I can't imagine the pain his best friends are in (I love you, Chelsea Smith). I think of all of the tears. I think of all of the people who can't quite wrap their minds around it and how they're going to cope with this.
I don't have any answers. I can't bring him back. All I can do is suggest that you do something today to prevent this from happening tomorrow. Reach out to someone that you love. No one knew how badly Matthew was hurting. Ask your neighbor or best friend how things are going for them. Reach out to a disconnected friendship. Check on classmate or coworker. Facebook someone you haven't heard from in a while. Let someone, anyone, know that they're important. Let them know you love them. Remind them that you care.
To all of the students and alumni of Northeast, to all of Matthew's friends and family, and to the towns of Brown Summit and McLeansville, I know we will get through this together -- hang in there.
"Today is one of those days that's reminded me that there are people in this world who are really suffering. Whether it's problems big or small, they all matter and are important. It's our job, as humans, to continuously show love to people. It reveals all of my ugly selfishness and reminds me that my life doesn't revolve just around me. It is so much more than that. It's who we love and show compassion for that is important."
-Chelsi Anderson
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Matter of Opinion
I am gay. I am married. I do not support gay marriage.
Generally, I keep my political views to myself. Now, bear with me because this blog post is not about politics, but you do need a bit of background information before we jump into this. I learned early on in my relationship with Jordan that she is MUCH more liberal than I am. Out of respect for one another, we keep our political commentary to a minimum and when we do discuss politics, it is calmly and respectfully -- without intent of changing one another's minds. I voted for Obama and so did she. That's no surprise, I'm sure. However, Jordan voted for Obama because she likes him. I voted for Obama because, in my opinion, he's the lesser of the two evils. Now, I promised I wouldn't get too deep into the political realm, so let's get to the point.
This post is about ignorance. For some reason, everyone thinks that all gays have the same left-winged political agenda. This isn't true. Let's take the biggest political issue in the LGBT community: gay marriage.
I believe in equal rights. However, I believe that marriage is a religious institution. Due to separation of church and state, I believe that each individual church should be allowed to decide whether or not to marry a couple, be it gay or straight. If the church decides that they would like to marry gays, let them! If they don't want to, don't ask them to! I wouldn't want the church to be able to implement their ideas on to our government, so why should the government be able to mandate ideas to the church? I believe that the standards of a civil union should be brought to par with the standards of a marriage in terms of tax breaks, benefits, etc. I believe that all states should acknowledge the union between same sex couples in the same manner that they would a heterosexual couple and that the "hoops" you have to jump through to obtain same sex couple benefits should be minimized. However, the actual concept of marriage is not something that I believe the government should be allowed to control.
Jordan's argument is that her union with me is a commitment to be with me forever, through thick and thin. That union would be no different if we were "permitted" to be married or not. So, why is there a stipulation that says "you can make a commitment to be together forever, but you can't make a legally binding commitment to be together forever." Jordan believes that marriage has been reformed and is no longer merely a religious commitment. She says "atheists get married, what's the difference?"
The point is, we both have different views. We both have opinions. Just because we're gay, doesn't mean we're both super liberal. Now, if gay marriage were legal in NC, would I go to the courthouse and file the paperwork? Absolutely. But it would be purely for legality issues -- being able to change my name on public record, etc. We are "married." I don't need a church to confirm that for me.
So, as Obama's second term begins, keep your mind open. Don't be so quick to judge and stereotype and group people together. There are people who will surprise you. And there are opinions of others that actually make sense. Just listen and see where it gets you.
Generally, I keep my political views to myself. Now, bear with me because this blog post is not about politics, but you do need a bit of background information before we jump into this. I learned early on in my relationship with Jordan that she is MUCH more liberal than I am. Out of respect for one another, we keep our political commentary to a minimum and when we do discuss politics, it is calmly and respectfully -- without intent of changing one another's minds. I voted for Obama and so did she. That's no surprise, I'm sure. However, Jordan voted for Obama because she likes him. I voted for Obama because, in my opinion, he's the lesser of the two evils. Now, I promised I wouldn't get too deep into the political realm, so let's get to the point.
This post is about ignorance. For some reason, everyone thinks that all gays have the same left-winged political agenda. This isn't true. Let's take the biggest political issue in the LGBT community: gay marriage.
I believe in equal rights. However, I believe that marriage is a religious institution. Due to separation of church and state, I believe that each individual church should be allowed to decide whether or not to marry a couple, be it gay or straight. If the church decides that they would like to marry gays, let them! If they don't want to, don't ask them to! I wouldn't want the church to be able to implement their ideas on to our government, so why should the government be able to mandate ideas to the church? I believe that the standards of a civil union should be brought to par with the standards of a marriage in terms of tax breaks, benefits, etc. I believe that all states should acknowledge the union between same sex couples in the same manner that they would a heterosexual couple and that the "hoops" you have to jump through to obtain same sex couple benefits should be minimized. However, the actual concept of marriage is not something that I believe the government should be allowed to control.
Jordan's argument is that her union with me is a commitment to be with me forever, through thick and thin. That union would be no different if we were "permitted" to be married or not. So, why is there a stipulation that says "you can make a commitment to be together forever, but you can't make a legally binding commitment to be together forever." Jordan believes that marriage has been reformed and is no longer merely a religious commitment. She says "atheists get married, what's the difference?"
The point is, we both have different views. We both have opinions. Just because we're gay, doesn't mean we're both super liberal. Now, if gay marriage were legal in NC, would I go to the courthouse and file the paperwork? Absolutely. But it would be purely for legality issues -- being able to change my name on public record, etc. We are "married." I don't need a church to confirm that for me.
So, as Obama's second term begins, keep your mind open. Don't be so quick to judge and stereotype and group people together. There are people who will surprise you. And there are opinions of others that actually make sense. Just listen and see where it gets you.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Fighting Tough Stuff
"Even if I can't fly, I'm not content to crawl." -Nine Days
When talk of my blog comes about around people who don't read my blog, I am often asked, "what do you blog about?" I never know how to answer this question. Uh, my life? No, not really. I mean, those of you who read regularly do know quite a bit about my life as well as some of my deepest demons, but I wouldn't consider this a blog about my daily life. Depression? That's dreary isn't it? When you say "I blog about depression" you get strange looks. My blog isn't informative and it's not funny. It's not necessarily a self-help blog and it also isn't a blog that's here to make a statement. While I do hope that I am helping people and I do hope that there is a statement being made, that's not the point of this blog. This blog is for me. That's all. So today, when explaining to a friend what my blog is about, this was my explanation: "Remembering what happened in my past is what keeps here. There's something about reminding yourself where you've been that pushes you not to go back -- it keeps you strong. My blog is about my hospital stays. How I got there, what happened while I was there, what happened after, where I am now, and how I stay healthy."
Today was a really bad day. That's why I'm blogging. This is something that helps me through -- it's a resource, a coping skill. I utilize this blog to help me through difficult situations that may have had me on my death bed a year ago. My job really got to me today -- I was pushed to my breaking point. Fortunately, that same friend that I described my blog to today had kind words for me when I got to the edge: "Back away from the edge. Take a deep breath and let it roll. It's okay. Over and done. You do a really good job." Hearing that got me through the end of the day. Blogging about it is what brings me back tomorrow. Knowing that I can take my stress and pain and leave it somewhere (that isn't my head) helps me relax.
So, to answer a frequently asked question, no, writing about my darkest days isn't unhealthy. I don't feel as though I'm reliving pain...I feel as though I'm leaving it behind and healing for the future. Being stable isn't easy for me -- this is most certainly a conscious decision. Today, I could have given up. A year ago, I would have. But in this moment, I can say that I'm leaving this frustration right here. I'm aware that when I go to work tomorrow, the stress won't be gone. My job won't be any different. The issues at hand will still stand, but I can confidently push through them. I can maintain a positive attitude and genuinely tackle even the toughest of tasks. Today, I was defeated. That just means that tomorrow I will fight harder. And I know that when I've fought my hardest and there's nothing left in me, there's an army of folks behind me ready to carry me to the finish line.
Today, my challenge to you is simple: get up off of your knees, loved one. You can do this! Today wasn't okay and tomorrow may not be either, but your pain is fleeting. You have so much to live for. There's a reason for your rescue. Come back to life...and then tell someone how you did it! Because remembering is okay. It heals.
When talk of my blog comes about around people who don't read my blog, I am often asked, "what do you blog about?" I never know how to answer this question. Uh, my life? No, not really. I mean, those of you who read regularly do know quite a bit about my life as well as some of my deepest demons, but I wouldn't consider this a blog about my daily life. Depression? That's dreary isn't it? When you say "I blog about depression" you get strange looks. My blog isn't informative and it's not funny. It's not necessarily a self-help blog and it also isn't a blog that's here to make a statement. While I do hope that I am helping people and I do hope that there is a statement being made, that's not the point of this blog. This blog is for me. That's all. So today, when explaining to a friend what my blog is about, this was my explanation: "Remembering what happened in my past is what keeps here. There's something about reminding yourself where you've been that pushes you not to go back -- it keeps you strong. My blog is about my hospital stays. How I got there, what happened while I was there, what happened after, where I am now, and how I stay healthy."
Today was a really bad day. That's why I'm blogging. This is something that helps me through -- it's a resource, a coping skill. I utilize this blog to help me through difficult situations that may have had me on my death bed a year ago. My job really got to me today -- I was pushed to my breaking point. Fortunately, that same friend that I described my blog to today had kind words for me when I got to the edge: "Back away from the edge. Take a deep breath and let it roll. It's okay. Over and done. You do a really good job." Hearing that got me through the end of the day. Blogging about it is what brings me back tomorrow. Knowing that I can take my stress and pain and leave it somewhere (that isn't my head) helps me relax.
So, to answer a frequently asked question, no, writing about my darkest days isn't unhealthy. I don't feel as though I'm reliving pain...I feel as though I'm leaving it behind and healing for the future. Being stable isn't easy for me -- this is most certainly a conscious decision. Today, I could have given up. A year ago, I would have. But in this moment, I can say that I'm leaving this frustration right here. I'm aware that when I go to work tomorrow, the stress won't be gone. My job won't be any different. The issues at hand will still stand, but I can confidently push through them. I can maintain a positive attitude and genuinely tackle even the toughest of tasks. Today, I was defeated. That just means that tomorrow I will fight harder. And I know that when I've fought my hardest and there's nothing left in me, there's an army of folks behind me ready to carry me to the finish line.
Today, my challenge to you is simple: get up off of your knees, loved one. You can do this! Today wasn't okay and tomorrow may not be either, but your pain is fleeting. You have so much to live for. There's a reason for your rescue. Come back to life...and then tell someone how you did it! Because remembering is okay. It heals.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Why I Shouldn't Be Alive
Research shows that 19 out of 20 people that attempt to kill themselves will fail. But the people who fail are 37 times more likely to succeed the second time. Everything about my illness says I shouldn't be here, but I am. And I think I am for three reasons. First, I've had excellent treatment. A combined total of 34 days in the psychiatric wards of Moses Cone's Behavioral Health (3 times), Randolph Crisis Center, and Baptist Hospital. Three daily medications and one "as needed" medication. Weekly sessions with my therapist, Emily (for years). Bi-weekly sessions with my medication manager, Dan. Monthly appointments with my psychiatrist, Dr. Lugo. A brief program of twice weekly appointments with Dr. Birma-Gainor. And a 15 day intensive outpatient program at Moses Cone. Second, I have many close friends and family members who know me and my illness. These relationships have given my life meaning and depth. They also help my navigate my life in the face of symptoms. Third, I live a stimulating life. I keep busy, regardless of how I'm feeling. Occupying my mind with complex problems has been my most powerful and most reliable defense against my mental illness. Even with all this, I did not make my illness public until September 2012. The stigma against mental illness is so powerful that I didn't feel safe with people knowing.
After my first suicide attempt, assembling myself back into life was difficult. I didn't want anyone to know, so I didn't tell anyone. Those who didn't know, were curious as to where I had been. But those who did know, weren't sure what to say, so they said nothing. That furthered my isolation. It wasn't until a year after my final suicide attempt that I was able to talk about my illness in any sort of public setting. I acknowledged the journey that I have been on and made it a public issue for a reason, and that reason is this: I knew that I needed to step out of my silence and past my fears to talk about an idea worth spreading -- and that is that people who have made the difficult choice to come back to life need more resources. We need open arms and heavy hearts for people who are so depressed that life feels unlivable. We need to talk about depression. We need to talk about suicide. It's a conversation worth having...there are lives worth saving.
I've shared my story publicly (if you're interested, click here). I want everyone to know, the feedback I received after posting that first blog, was incredible. I never expected so much love and support along with so little judgement. I was so afraid of people knowing that I never entertained the idea of actually receiving support. Perhaps the reason you aren't willing to take the first step is because you're scared. I understand. That is why I believe we need more resources that allow people, just like me, to safely share their stories. We need more ambassadors for the mentally unstable. We need people willing to reach out to those in pain...and we need to feel safe in doing so. My one hope for this blog is to someday know that I've changed a life. Even if it's just one. I hope I can give someone the courage to talk about their mental illness and seek treatment by sharing my story. Don't be afraid. Asking for help makes you strong and courageous, not weak and unworthy.
"The humanity we all share is more important than the mental illness we may not." -Elyn Saks
Thursday, November 1, 2012
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