happinesss-bliss-blog

[happinesss-bliss-blog]

A Journey.

This isn’t the least bit of easy to write. For years I’ve said that one day I’ll sit in front of a camera and tell the world about my struggles with mental health, but showcase the fact that it’s all behind me and I can live a normal life of joy. But as time passed, I’d tried to record that video up to 30 times and for some reason I simply could not do it. I’d open my mouth and the only thing that would come out is choked back tears because I knew I was not better. I was lying. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t make a little girl, going through the same, believe that one day she’d wake up and her life would no longer be filled with constant regrets and worries. 

So here I write as I listen to the saddest songs possible conjoined together in a sappy Heartbreak spotify playlist. I can’t say when it started because I genuinely do not know, but I can tell you what I do know. My whole life I was never like any of the other kids, I knew I was different. I towered over everyone (my growth spurt hit fast and out of nowhere) in 7th grade, which is the first time a boy on the bus grimaced as he pointed out my stretch marks that had began peeking through my tank top that’d slid up my side just a smidge. And that was the first time I looked at my body and hated it. I googled quick fixes, browsed around on “Pro Ana” sites, and began counting my calories. I wore long sleeves and when it was too hot for that I’d stack 20 bracelets on each wrist to hide the harm I’d done. I hated crowds. I hated people looking at me. I hated the THOUGHT of people looking at me.

     August 2017 -    I had just eagerly started my senior year of highschool. I’d come so far and I had so much to prove to those who doubted me. Starting out, I had built a stable school-ationship. Everyone knew me as the slightly shy yet bubbly girl, I was accepted on to the varsity cheer team, my grades were well-leveled, and before I knew it I fell in love. He was a football player, I was a cheerleader; I mean things couldn’t have been more Netflix teen romancey. I had never been in a relationship, at least not a serious one. I had given him everything I had to offer. But he cheated. And I took him back, every single time. But each time, I’d lock myself in the bathroom and stare into the mirror until I pointed out every single flaw, every reason why his infidelity was justified. I grew a hatred for eating and a love for workout apps. I’d stay up until 2 AM making sure I knocked out enough sit ups. Before I knew it, I’d lost 30 pounds.

January 2018  - I left him. I left for good and in doing that, I got involved with someone he knew. He found out. Everyone found out. Instead of walking into school excited to speak to people, I started coming as late as possible to avoid as much interaction as possible because the only thing they knew how to do when they seen me was whisper. Just that fast, I was no longer the shy bubbly girl but instead I had random people jokingly ask if I’d let them be next. I had girls threatening me for no apparent reason except for the fact that they knew my ex. Again, I stopped eating. Instead of staring into the mirror I’d sit in the tub with the showerhead pouring on to my head as I cried as loud as I possibly could. It was a constant battle on whether or not I should harm myself again. But one night I got a call, from him. Telling me how there had been a video taken of me that everyone had seen. And I saw my world collapse around me. I didn’t know what to do and the only thing I could think of was how there was literally no way i could show my face ever again. I grabbed a bottle of antidepressants and swallowed every single pill. AND DIDN’T DIE !! I remember waking up the next morning thinking about how I couldn’t even kill myself correctly. The pills numbed any source of emotion I had for days, until I had learned how to block out the memories.

     February 2018  -       I met someone. I felt as if i was walking on eggshells trying to avoid the pain I’d just been through. But he’d reassured me he was nothing like my past. 

I was pregnant. If you went to school with me, you know that already. Since you know, everyone was asking everyone but me if I knew who the father was. But as for family, I nearly didn’t add this because of you. I nearly didn’t write this because of you. Not all of you, but you get the point. ANYWAYS, I was pregnant. After 4 weeks had passed, I got used to the thought. I was excited, had no idea what I was gonna do, but that didn’t matter because nothing was going right for me and I finally had something, someone to live for. I had a miscarriage 11 weeks in. Everyone either treated it like it was nothing or treated me like I was a piece of glass. I got pulled out of school. I no longer went on campus like everyone else, instead I sat in the back of an empty room and did my work for the day. Until that grew to be too much and I had to do my work from home. I thought my life no longer had a meaning, I was only a burden at this point. I started heavily drinking and smoking because it was the only thing that could numb the pain, even if only for a few hours.

May 2018  -     I did it. I graduated. I walked across the stage, got my diploma, and I graduated. I should be happy. But yet in the back of my mind, I wondered who actually cheered for me from my class when my name was called. I looked around as everyone posed for pictures with their friends, and I was huddled in a corner getting flustered about lunch reservations with my family.

July 2018 -      School starts August 13th. I have my classes planned out for the next two semesters. I AM going to be a Pediatric Registered Nurse. I AM going to get my drivers license along with my first car. I AM going to put 4 months rent down on my dream place. And I am on a journey to healing. To growth. To getting better. And no one can take that away from me. I’m still not okay. Sometimes I don’t comb my hair for weeks, sometimes I’ll go days without showering because I literally just can’t pull myself out of this fog that engulfs me at random times. Sometimes I make excuses to avoid social situations, even if it’s family. Sometimes I cry in the shower. But that’s okay. Because when I get out of bed, take a shower, clean the house, or brush my hair, I’m proud. I’m proud that I’m still here and i’m still fighting the chemical imbalance in my brain. I’m able to step back and see how strong I’ve become. If those antidepressants had worked, I would’ve never been able to choose my career path. I would never be able to feel this joy of school starting because it’s something I’ll be able to control. And im okay with it. I’m okay with all of it. Because it weren’t for my lows, I would’ve never been able to achieve these highs.

This is for every brown girl that is told that her feelings are invalid. That is ridiculed for something she can not control rather than helped. It’ll all be worth it in the end. And this is for EVERYONE who has ever been laughed at whilst dealing with anxiety/depression while in highschool. Highschool sucks! And not just as a “Oh everyone goes through it, get over it.” No. This needs to be more than just shrunk down to small highschooler problems. Listen to us when we speak up. 

Thank you.

<3 

#depression #livingwithdepression #dealingwithdepression #growth #peaceofmind #lgbtq #highschool

[happinesss-bliss-blog]