Some background: When I was 15 I was hospitalized for a short time for depression, cutting, anorexia, and insomnia. In short, I was a mess. I am thankful to my mother for taking the steps she needed to in order to get me help. Others aren't so lucky.
I've been struggling with these things - most often silently - constantly for the past eight years. In addition to the above, I also experience pretty severe social anxiety. So, yup, still a mess.
The other day I realized that I've successfully made it 6 months without self-harming.
I choose to be open about my cutting, though I'm painfully aware of how others may treat me or view me when they realize what I do to myself. It's a daily struggle. It has nothing to do with attention seeking and everything to do with trying to control just one thing when my life feels completely out of control. It's about making myself feel something when my depression is at its worst, because physical pain is better than feeling absolutely nothing. The pain is grounding when my anxiety convinces me that everything is spiraling into chaos. It's deceptively sweet.
And it's addicting. That's really what it comes down to. It's an addiction. It's like that obnoxious friend who follows you around, constantly begging you to pay attention to them even though you know they're toxic and you'd be better off without them. Except I've got a possy of these friends. Depression, Anxiety, Self-Harm, Insomnia. And I can't slam the door in their faces, turn off my phone, and drown them out. I can't escape them.
I've been struggling with these things - most often silently - constantly for the past eight years. In addition to the above, I also experience pretty severe social anxiety. So, yup, still a mess.
The other day I realized that I've successfully made it 6 months without self-harming.
I choose to be open about my cutting, though I'm painfully aware of how others may treat me or view me when they realize what I do to myself. It's a daily struggle. It has nothing to do with attention seeking and everything to do with trying to control just one thing when my life feels completely out of control. It's about making myself feel something when my depression is at its worst, because physical pain is better than feeling absolutely nothing. The pain is grounding when my anxiety convinces me that everything is spiraling into chaos. It's deceptively sweet.
And it's addicting. That's really what it comes down to. It's an addiction. It's like that obnoxious friend who follows you around, constantly begging you to pay attention to them even though you know they're toxic and you'd be better off without them. Except I've got a possy of these friends. Depression, Anxiety, Self-Harm, Insomnia. And I can't slam the door in their faces, turn off my phone, and drown them out. I can't escape them.
I know it's not the most sustainable coping mechanism. I know that in the end it causes more harm than good. I know that one day I'll have to explain my multitude of scars to my son and daughter, and hope they'll forgive me my weakness and I'll pray they won't face the same struggles I do. I know that, now, when I feel safe and at peace and life is going okay. But tomorrow I may wake up to find that things are not so alright after all, and I'll spend the day trying to distract myself and talk myself away from the edge of the black hole that is depression.
I've been through therapy. I've tried medications, lifestyle changes, hobbies, meditation, natural remedies, hormonal birth control, community service, exercise, and ignoring it. Nothing seems to stick. Sometimes it's a battle with your mind you can only fight on your own.
I have a wonderful family, a great life, good friends, and an abundance of possibilities. I think it surprises people when they learn of my struggles. Because cutting is for emo kids and attention-seeking teens or druggies, right? Not a quiet blonde stay-at-home-mom. That's the great thing about depression...it certainly doesn't discriminate.
But I made it. 6 months is quite an accomplishment. I wish I could say goodbye to it forever, but baby steps, right?
I'm not sure why exactly I decided to write a blog post about this, but it feels right. If you're struggling with cutting, or another mental illness, know you're not alone and you are loved in spite of all your flaws. If you know someone who is having a hard time, I know it's hard to deal with but please don't give up on them.
Above all, be kind to your fellow human beings. Some of our battle scars are a little less conventional, some are hidden inside, and some are easy to see but hard to understand. Everyone's trying to do the best they can with what they have.
I've been through therapy. I've tried medications, lifestyle changes, hobbies, meditation, natural remedies, hormonal birth control, community service, exercise, and ignoring it. Nothing seems to stick. Sometimes it's a battle with your mind you can only fight on your own.
I have a wonderful family, a great life, good friends, and an abundance of possibilities. I think it surprises people when they learn of my struggles. Because cutting is for emo kids and attention-seeking teens or druggies, right? Not a quiet blonde stay-at-home-mom. That's the great thing about depression...it certainly doesn't discriminate.
But I made it. 6 months is quite an accomplishment. I wish I could say goodbye to it forever, but baby steps, right?
I'm not sure why exactly I decided to write a blog post about this, but it feels right. If you're struggling with cutting, or another mental illness, know you're not alone and you are loved in spite of all your flaws. If you know someone who is having a hard time, I know it's hard to deal with but please don't give up on them.
Above all, be kind to your fellow human beings. Some of our battle scars are a little less conventional, some are hidden inside, and some are easy to see but hard to understand. Everyone's trying to do the best they can with what they have.
No comments:
Post a Comment