This post is more emotional and can be triggering. I will be talking about depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, and other things so please do not read if these subjects are triggering for you. I don't want you to get hurt in any way, shape or form. With that being said, here is my story and how I deal with it on a daily basis. This is not written to make anyone feel sorry for me, I just want to bring awereness to the subject and hopefully make it a little easier and not so lonely for someone else.
When I was 12, I avoided oral presentations in school, not because I was lazy and "shy", but because I felt like I was dying every time I had to do them. It physically hurt to do them. I was shaking, I couldn't breathe, I was sweating, I was dizzy.
I was forced into doing them in front of my class every time. I'm now 20 and the fear of oral presentations is unreal. I can not handle the thought of doing oral presentations.
When I was 13, I wasn't happy. I wasn't sad and I wasn't angry. I was pretty much emotionless and numb all the time. I pushed my friends away, I stopped doing things that I used to love. I still hated oral presentations and wouldn't sleep for a week before the presentation. I got tired of never feeling anything so I turned to self harm. I could breathe and think again.
I never told anyone.
When I was 15, I had scars all over both of my arms so I switched to my legs. Easier to hide, right? I kept doing it, every night. I lot my apetite but not because I wanted to loose weight. I actually wanted to gain weight, but nothing I did ever seemed to work so I gave up on eating, it didn't make a difference so why try. The self harm increased as the hatred I had for my body grew stronger.
I never told anyone.
When I was 16, I met a boy. I fell in love and I thought my life got better. It did not. The boy wasn't the charming prince I thought he was and I just fell deeper into the pit filled with depression and anxiety. The boy made it worse for me and the relationship was not healthy. I still believed that self harm was the way to go.
I never told anyone.
When I was 18, I got pregnant. Unplanned. I got an abortion, but I was 10 weeks so they had to admit me to the hospital so I had to do it there and not at home as I had hoped. It hurt like hell, they injected me with morphine 3 times, those 3 times was the happiest moments of my life at that time. I got through it, we spent over 12 hours at the hospital before we could go home. I was miserable, I was tired, I was hungry, I was in pain. I didn't cut myself that night because I was already in a lot of pain so I didn't feel the need to. I was however extremely depressed and just brushing my hair was challenging and hard to do.
I never told anyone outside my closest family and friends about the abortion.
When I was 19, I finally ended the toxic relationship and got away from him. Now that I had so much more time alone, I sank deeper, to rock bottom. I had never been so numb in my life.
Somewhere between the abortion and the end of my relationship, I told someone. I let my mom help me and she took me to the doctor. The doctor diagnosed me with depression and general anxiety and panic disorder. She prescribed anti depressants and something to calm me down when my anxiety was high. I was home from school and work for a month. Things got a little better and I started to get my hopes back up... Maybe my life wouldn't be like this forever, maybe I wouldn't have to end it early to get away from this hell hole.
I went to a psychologist and things got even better. I could take care of myself and I could go back to school. I still wasn't okay but I was doing better.
When I went back to school, I hit rock bottom again. Being in that environment, being in class, having a tight schedule and assignments to do on time, and don't forget the 3 hour trainride everyday, it broke me again. But I told someone this time. I told my teacher and we figured out a way to solve this problem. The plan was to just do school half time until graduation, and then do the rest of my classes after graduation. This way, it would be slower, at my own pace, on my own terms. I was happy about it, but I got to the point where I realized, is it worth it to spend a whole other year, if not more, in school just to be able to graduate from something I didn't enjoy? I knew I would never work with that, so why push forward and risk my mental health again?
I dropped out. So I never finished it, which means I don't have any kind of diploma. But I'm proud of myself for putting my mental health first and going in my own direction.
It's now a year later and I still don't regret dropping out. I just moved in with my boyfriend of almost one year now, I'm working from home and building my empire through social media, I'm happier and I enjoy life.
I'm still not okay, I'm far from okay! I have anxiety and I have days, even longer periods of time where my depression comes back, but I have support system now, I have people to talk to and I have a job that I love.
Even though I've been through hell and back, I'm still standing and I'm happier than I've ever been (that I can remember anyway).
This is far from the whole story, but some things are more personal and I'm not ready to let the world know everything yet, and that's okay.
I guess what I'm trying to say is, you won't get better if you're always hiding your problems. You have to tell someone and let yourself get the help you need. As soon as you do that, you can start healing your mind and body.
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