On March 1st, of 2013, I began my recovery journey.
Last January, I was diagnosed with panic/anxiety disorder and severe clinical depression. A large part of the story that nobody knew, though, was that I had been self harming for quite a long time.
I won't go into too many details, but I had been scratching, biting, punching, and pulling out my hair since I was a little kid. My self harm, depression and anxiety all hit me extremely hard my senior year of high school, and I started cutting myself. I didn't tell anyone for quite a while, afraid of the judgement and shame I would feel from everyone around me. So, I hid.
After a while, I finally told my best friend Andrew. He was/has been the best support, and didn't judge me. He tried to understand the best he could and was so loving and patient with me. I will admit, I felt extremely bad for him. He had to see me at my darkest, and he was the only one I would talk to for quite a while. On top of that, I was not always nice to him. If you know me, you'll know that I'm just a liiiitttttlllleeee stubborn. I often would get angry, and take it out on him. Seriously, this poor guy, I would have THE MOST irrational feelings and arguments. But the entire time, Andrew took the time to listen to me and tell me that I was wrong. He never yelled like I did at him, and he never faltered when I would get upset. The entire time, Andrew tried to make me see my worth.
I just wasn't able to believe him at the point I was at, unfortunately.
On March 1st (a Friday), I had a particularly bad panic attack. I had harmed myself pretty severely on my right arm, and was wearing long sleeves to cover it. As I was crying, this guy who went to my high school came up to me with a Sharpie. He said "Do you trust me? I want to write something on your arm.". Of course I was extremely hesitant. By the way he had asked, I knew he must have known I had harmed myself. I did eventually roll up my sleeve, and he took my arm. As he was writing, he said "Whenever you want to hurt yourself, I want you to look at this and remember that you are loved. You have so many people here on Earth who love you, and God loves you. Read this and know that you are never alone."
I put my sleeve down, and didn't look at what he had written until I was about halfway home. I looked at my arm, and on my right wrist I saw the word LOVE written in black Sharpie.
That night, I gave my razor to Andrew.
I had him take a picture of my arms that night, so that I'd be able to look back and see how much better my arms looked. I will not post this picture, but my goodness it's amazing how well I've healed. I'm so grateful for that.
The same night, I told my family about everything I had been doing.
One week later, I told my psychologist that I had began recovery. Immediately she told me I needed to be admitted to the psych ward in Thunderbird Hospital. I was terrified, but I knew it was necessary.
I was in the hospital for about 4 or 5 hours, with my Mom by my side.
I calmly told all the doctors and therapists that came to see me exactly why I was there, why I self harmed myself, and was able to describe everything I was feeling.
After all the evaluations, the doctor came in and he looked at me and said "I'm really surprised you're here. I'm confused, you are able to explain your emotions so well. Most people who self harm don't know how to communicate their feelings, but you are the exception. You don't need to be admitted, unless you think it would be best."
I told him no, and that's when I was referred to the best therapist EVER, Dina.
I know why I went to the hospital that day, it was so that I could begin therapy with Dina, who to this day is one of my favorite people. She and I are totally on the same wave length, and we both taught each other so much. I have found that art therapy is powerful and has been essential to my recovery.
I did relapse with cutting, once. It was after I had stopped someone from ending their life, and it brought up a lot of bad feelings.
You know what though?
I don't regret helping her. I am so grateful that she is alive and beside me in recovery to this day.
I received a Christmas card from her this last Christmas, and it turns out she also lives in Arizona! I cried when I got the card, because if I hadn't been online that night to help her, she might not have been here to write that card.
I am coming up on my year mark. My relapse happened April 24th. I asked my friends to take some pictures of me, to celebrate my recovery.
My blog is called "Restoring Hope" because that's exactly what I want to do with my story. I want to restore hope in the hopeless. I want to tell everyone that having a mental illness is not shameful. There is NO shame in it, and you are not the only one. You would be surprised how many people deal with different mental illnesses, I know that I have been.
I do have scars on my body. And you know what? I'm not ashamed of them. It shows that I was stronger than the thing that tried to kill me. I am a warrior, and they are my battle scars. My scars are a part of me, but they don't define me.
If you are reading this, and you are suffering, listen to me:
-You are loved more than you know
I did relapse with cutting, once. It was after I had stopped someone from ending their life, and it brought up a lot of bad feelings.
You know what though?
I don't regret helping her. I am so grateful that she is alive and beside me in recovery to this day.
I received a Christmas card from her this last Christmas, and it turns out she also lives in Arizona! I cried when I got the card, because if I hadn't been online that night to help her, she might not have been here to write that card.
I am coming up on my year mark. My relapse happened April 24th. I asked my friends to take some pictures of me, to celebrate my recovery.
My blog is called "Restoring Hope" because that's exactly what I want to do with my story. I want to restore hope in the hopeless. I want to tell everyone that having a mental illness is not shameful. There is NO shame in it, and you are not the only one. You would be surprised how many people deal with different mental illnesses, I know that I have been.
I do have scars on my body. And you know what? I'm not ashamed of them. It shows that I was stronger than the thing that tried to kill me. I am a warrior, and they are my battle scars. My scars are a part of me, but they don't define me.
If you are reading this, and you are suffering, listen to me:
-You are loved more than you know
-I am proud of you
-There is infinite hope
-You are NEVER alone
-Recovery is not easy. But it's worth it.
-There is no shame in mental illness.
LOVE IS LOUDER.
With the help of Andrew, and all my other loved ones, I know that I have so much worth. I know that I am loved, and that I will never be alone.
All the pain WAS for a purpose. I've helped a few people that I know, just by sharing my story. That alone tells me that it has all been worth it.
Thank you, to everyone who has supported me through the years. I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell everyone while it was happening, and I hope you can forgive me. I know I was awful my senior year, and I felt I owed it to all of you and to myself to share.
I have so much love in my heart for all of the people who've supported me. Thank you, so much. I hope I can make you all proud (:
Here are the links to the different organizations that have really helped me through recovery, with the different messages and projects that they do:
-http://twloha.com/vision
-http://www.loveislouder.com/the-movement/
Thank you all, for taking the time to read this.
Have a wonderful day. (:
I will be posting pictures in a different blog post in a while! Come back soon!
No comments:
Post a Comment