Que sera sera
…makes us stronger.
It began sophomore
year. I questioned God and all the
trials He had placed in my life in only 14 years. I still struggle with this, yet that is for a
different time. I became depressed. Not really sure, but I felt absolutely alone
at this time. In reality I was not, yet
when in a situation of severe depression you aren’t aware of those who love
you.
My mom and I never had a good relationship and that definitely
did not play out well in this time of my life.
I blamed myself for our marred relationship this is what I was taught to
believe. I thought I was a failure at
everything I tried to do.
Self-injury for me started in fun. Makes me sound insane to look at that as fun.
The first thing I did was a burn. I
seared my skin with a burning piece of metal.
I will forever have a scar on my left wrist from this. It is a somber reminder to me every single
day. No matter what I do this scar will
remind me of that place I once was.
I continued to burn, yet no longer in fun. I burned my legs and my arms. I do not have a lot of scars because I was
sure to take good care of them in order to hide my secret life from my family
and friends. This behavior is socially unacceptable. In doing this I never felt that I would be accepted
or understood if I brought my problem to someone’s attention. I was flawed and nothing could fix me.
To this day not being accepted because of this is still an
insecurity that I have, yet I have learned to embrace every life experience I
have gone through. I felt that if my friends
knew how messed up I was they would judge me or think differently of me. I cannot express how much I still struggle
with this insecurity. There is power in
facing your insecurity.
From burning I went to cutting. Once again I viewed it as purely
experimental, but experiment only last one time. Like a drug cutting is extremely
addictive. After my first 3 tiny cuts,
in my mind, one’s that were not even worth calling cuts it was uncontrollable. I was completely out of control. I talked to no one and I had lost the ability
to cry. I would try to quit
cutting. I cannot express how many times
I attempted to call it quits. I would be
good for one day think I’d change, but then I’d get uncontrollable shakes. My mind would race and my arms would go
completely cold. I’d sit with blade in
hand and weigh the pros and cons of the situation. My shakes were
uncontrollable and I would have to remove myself from situations and seclude
myself. I would always find myself wrapping my wrists in gauze and tape. I would max at 3 hours of sleep a night. My studies declined rapidly and I found
myself withdrawing from everything around me.
My level of play in soccer also declined dramatically. I was a stressed, depressed, lost child. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and suicide
had become a reality.
I quit cutting it had been a month clean. One of the most difficult months of my
life. It was a struggle every single
moment. I would shake and be cold for
hours on end. I would crave the high. It was about a month later that my family
found out about my addiction. This was
perhaps one of the worst nights ever. It
was not handled in an ideal way, yet that is beside the point. I cannot blame
my family they were completely overwhelmed by the news.
I can say that every single day was a battle. I went through months of faking that I was
happy. I did not want to retreat to
counseling or meds. It was not the route
for me, though it may be for others. I’d
past a smile on myself when I woke up and happily retire it when I’d stare at my
ceiling through the night. Here is a sum
up of what I felt like in the following months:
I'm a ghost walking around.
Living for others so they don't have to deal with my death
Living to keep you happy
Living for me, no
Living for peace living to survive
To move on this is what I live for
Faking it didn’t work.
After a year and little progress with my depression issues I resolved to
a different tactic. We all struggle with
faking our image from time to time. We
strive to mirror what society expects of us.
How I got better was to drop my mask and I was simply me. I did not hide who I was if I was sad I was
sad and if I was happy then I was happy.
I didn’t fake it. But you can’t
just give into your sadness. While you
embrace who you are you have to search for the little thing that’s worth
smiling for or being thankful for and just savor it. You’ll start being naturally happy.. But it’ll
take time. Through this I lost some friends
and gained some. It is terribly fearful showing your true emotions to those
around you.
I have relapsed many times.
There is one particular time that was unbelievable and it will forever
be etched in my memory. 7 months ago….I
sat leaning against my wall knees to my chest.
I sat there and cut it is almost as if I blacked out because next thing
I knew I refocused and was fearing for my life due to the damage that I had
just inflicted on my arms. This is the
day I truly turned it around. I immediately
began shaking uncontrollably and—cried.
Crying has not been part of my vocabulary of daily routine during my
severe depression and time of self-injury.
That is partly why I cut, so that I could see myself and know I was
still alive, as foolish as that may sound.
I had regained my ability to show emotion and express myself without a
blade.
After quitting and getting on a grip a turned to face many new
struggles in my life. I went to extreme
working out and little eating. When that
phase was over I went to over eating and indulging myself with food. I would be proud to say that I don’t struggle
with any of this anymore, but perhaps I should value that I can tell you I
still struggle with this. I am in fact
human and will always face the trivial things in life.
While my time of quitting and struggling with withdrawals I
wrote,
At times it has been
indescribably hard to resist the urge [to cut].
Even harder when after you make [yourself] not do it that there isn’t a
sense of accomplishment, but [a sense of] regret.
No matter how much I try to describe the difficulty that occurred
when I tried to quit cutting those who have never experienced it will never
understand. Cutting is an addiction and
it is not merely a young child reaching out for attention. I did not tell anyone about my cutting until I
had it under control. Some people may
start out with an intent to gain attention, yet it will turn into an addiction
regardless of the way that it begins.
A must admit I have not been clean for years. I have cut since that day the month before my
family found out. I cut in this last
year. It’s something that will always be
a present challenge in my life. I will
conquer it though. With the help of my
friends, and family I wouldn’t be here today, I would have to say what has
helped me the most is reading the stories of others who have overcome this
addiction. It is something that never
ceases to creep up on you.
I may seem like this perfect happy girl, but I’m not. Yes, I’m happy, but I have experienced some
absolutely horrible times and even more moments that have been amazing and irreplaceable.
I talk about Self-Injury Awareness, yet I fail to actually
take action and make a difference in the ways that I feel may be possible. Change is a choice and if I can be a “step”
in someone’s transformation to a better them I must feel I have done my part. This
I do not write seeking for attention. I
am not proud of any of my actions concerning this. It will forever be an embarrassment. However, it has shaped me into the strong
individual I am today. My greatest wish
for this is that I will help someone who is struggling or who has struggled
with the same problem. Many, like me,
will never talk to someone about their struggles. I write this for you.
