Staying Clean

This post was copied from my other blog because I thought it needed to be shared here. I haven't cut myself for four years. Four years. Cutting is an addiction. Like any addiction, it's extremely difficult to break. You have both a physical and psychological dependence on it. Physically, the rush of chemicals you get from your brain trying to make your body feel better after you've injured it feels wonderful. When you're depressed, it makes you actually FEEL something. Psychologically, you hate yourself so you cut then you hate yourself for cutting so you cut more. This cycle is strongly reinforced by the chemical rush you get from doing so. Physical pain is a distraction from the mental pain. During my time as a self-harm addict I tried to stop multiple times. Sometimes I would go a week or two without doing it. Once I managed to go two months without cutting but every time I stopped and restarted it was so much worse. Relapsing made me do it a lot more often. When I started out, I did one or two cuts every few days. By my third or fourth relapse, I was doing a lot more cuts multiple times every day. One day in the middle of January 2013, I didn't cut. I didn't do it the next day or the next or the one after that. I didn't think I was really going to be able to stop. I thought it would be like all the other times and I became progressively more terrified of relapse. It got worse every time I did so I didn't want it to be even worse than it was. Three months passed. Then six. When I hit my year mark I was shocked. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. The desire, the desperation was still there. I experienced withdrawal symptoms. Any time something went wrong my fist instinct was to hurt myself. I frequently ended up in a ball on the floor, not allowing myself to move until the urge to hurt myself passed. I made it to two years. It was still hard. The longer I went without doing it, the harder it seemed. I wanted to give up, to go back to how I was. In times of weakness, my incredible progress didn't matter. Around the two and a half year mark I realized something. It was getting easier not to cut. Sure, I still had bad days once or twice a month where I wanted to but the rest of the time I was handling it. Three years passed. I hardly ever thought about cutting. I didn't stare disbelievingly at my scars a fraction as much as I used to. The times I wanted to hurt myself happened even less. I had someone who supported me in my quest to stay clean. Someone who, instead of thinking I was disgusting for hurting myself, thought I was amazingly strong for overcoming it. Someone who took me out to dinner to celebrate my three year mark because he thought it was an accomplishment worth recognizing. (Bless my husband.) It's been four years. I think of hurting myself once every few months. I have hope. I know I am capable of staying clean. I have support in my effort to stay clean on those days where I really want to hurt myself again. I want everyone to know that it is possible to stop. It is possible to move on and not let it run your life anymore. You deserve better than being stuck in that horrible cycle of self-harm. Your life is worth stopping. You are capable of surviving self-harm and having a happy, fulfilling life. Take it from someone who's been there. It can be done. I'm rooting for you.

Burdensome Thoughts

I have had thoughts like this so many times since my depression began. I truly believed I was a burden to others and a complete waste of time and money. There have even been times I've hated myself so much I was angry at myself for breathing better people's air, drinking better people's water, and eating better people's food. I thought I was so worthless that I didn't deserve basic human needs. This wasn't true, but the thoughts affected my life for a long time. They still occasionally do on really bad days. Being depressed doesn't make you less of a person. You still have needs: food, shelter, love (be it familial, romantic, or platonic). You are worthy of having those needs filled. You are worth so much more than you cost. You are worth so much more than the effort you think other people exert on you. You are worth everything because you are a unique, important human being. The world would be a worse place without you for so many people. The people you love you and the people who never would have been able to have an impact on. My husband tells me on a semi regular basis how grateful he is that I stayed alive long enough for him to meet me and fall in love with me because (according to him) I've changed his life for the better. You have that power too. You affect people now. You will continue to affect people for the rest of your life. Don't deprive people you've never met the chance of meeting you and potentially having their lives changed by you. No matter how much of a burden you feel, you are worth it. Always, always worth it. Those thoughts intruding in your mind are not true. They are a result of your illness and nothing more. There is no truth in them. You are worth all the time and resources in the world. You are a blessing, not a burden. There are people who want you and need you around. No matter how much those burdensome thoughts permeate your mind, please don't let them take root there. Acknowledge them for the lies they are. When you have those kinds of thoughts, remind yourself that they are just lies your brain is telling you. Convince yourself that they aren't true so when they do pop up again, you won't be as affected. I believe in you.

Recovering from Self-Harm

I was procrastinating writing my final history paper and came across this article on Facebook. It resonated with me because I have felt all of the things the author described. I hated myself so I cut and then I hated myself for cutting so I cut more. I haven't self-harmed in 4 years next month but I still feel that pull on especially bad days. When I first stopped, it was really hard for me to see those white lines standing out on my arm as proof of what I had done to myself. Summers were especially hard in the next year or two because the rest of my skin tanned around them and I felt like they stood out like neon signs screaming, "Look at me! Look what I did to myself!" I was paranoid that people would see them but in reality, I am the only one who does. Only two clusters are visible in most lighting. But I know where all of them are. In certain lighting I see every single one staring out at me and I feel regret that I ever felt it was necessary to hurt myself. It used to affect me a lot more than it does now. In this case, time is a healer. I don't know if the scars will ever fade, because it's been a long time and they haven't. But the effect they have on me has faded. I still sometimes feel bad when I see them. But for the most part, I accept that they are part of me. A part of me that helped shape who I am. I wouldn't be the mental health awareness advocate that I am today if I hadn't gotten those battle scars from the war with my own mind that spanned about 1/4 of my life. My scars used to make me feel ashamed every time I saw them. Now, for the most part, I see them and realize how far I've come. I'm not that 16 year old girl who hated herself anymore. I'm moving forward. Sometimes it's a slow process, but any progress is still progress. It is possible to stop self-harming, no matter how addicted you are or how hopeless it feels when you try to stop. It is possible to move past it and accept it as a part of your life's story rather than as your defining characteristic. You can do it.

From Someone Who's Been There

My friend shared this video on Facebook today and it resonated with me. I have often thought about what I would say to someone struggling with suicidal thoughts as a survivor. Similar things have been said in the video but here goes. You cannot possibly imagine how good life can get while you're going through this, but it will. It will be more than you could have dreamed of. People need you. Friends, family members, strangers you haven't met yet, they all need you. You will be happier than you thought possible. You will be so grateful that you stayed. Other people will be so grateful that you stayed and (if they know) will tell you so. You are irreplaceable. There are important things that only you can do. Someday you will look back and cry happy tears that you made it. You will be proud of yourself. You will be able to help other people experiencing this in a way that no one who hasn't been where you are can. You are worth so much. It won't seem worth it right away. It will be hard. But years from now, when you've lived a good life, you will NEVER regret not giving up. I was suicidal for about six years. I self-harmed. I attempted suicide eight times. I finally broke that hold on my mind almost two years ago. I am happy. I have a good life. I have hope and plans for the future. Most of all, I am so grateful that I got another chance to live because life is unbelievably worth it. I promise that if you stay, if you keep fighting, it will be worth it for you. You can do this. I love you. I don't know you, but I have so much love and respect for you because I've been where you are now. And I believe in you. If anyone reading this ever needs to talk, I am here. I care. I will listen. Because you are worth it.

Carrying On

I haven't posted in a while because things have been rough. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in September. It turned my life upside down. It explained why I was in pain all the time but I can't be treated for it through conventional means because of the medications they normally use for it. Antidepressants. Narcotics. Both types of medications that have previously made me incredibly suicidal. (The only time I've ever taken narcotics of any sort was following my wisdom teeth removal earlier this year and, oh boy, I hadn't been that suicidal since high school when on antidepressants.) So I'm in pain. I had frequent breakdowns in the month following that announcement. I've mostly accepted it now and am working on finding alternative methods to lessen my pain. Despite the utter despair that came from knowing my doctor couldn't do anything to help me with my pain that regularly has me flat on my back unable to move, I'm carrying on. I could have given in to it. It would have been easy. I've done it before when things have seemed hopeless. There were entire years of my life where I had given up because of less serious problems than this. But then I didn't feel like I had something to life for. Something worth moving forward for, even if I had to crawl. Now I do. My life is worth living no matter what problems arise. Believing that is a gigantic leap forward from even two years ago. Even during the darkest days of my depression, I carried on and got where I am today. So can you.

Worst Days

I saw a post a few days ago that said something like, "You've survived 100% of your worst days so far. You're doing great." While this is true for everyone alive, I feel like it's different for people with depression. We've survived so much more than what is typically thought of as a bad day. Personally, I've survived days where I've had panic attacks, hurt myself multiple times, have been incredibly suicidal, have actually attempted suicide, and have felt completely miserable, alone, and like life just isn't worth it. These happen far more frequently than I'd guess "average" bad days do. I used to think "I don't have bad days, I have a bad life." I don't think that as much anymore (only on aforementioned bad days) because I've come to accept that my bad days don't define me. By "bad days" I mean days I'm too depressed to get out of bed or move from the couch, am suicidal, or having such intense anxiety I can't function. Despite the extreme level of badness on those bad days, I have made it through all of them. The amazing thing is that I've survived the ones I truly believed I couldn't live through. If you're reading this, so have you. No matter what you've been through, you've made it anyway. You're still here. You're still fighting. The worst days of depression haven't beaten us. We can do this. We're stronger than we think and we've gotten this far. Go us!

Survivor

I am a survivor. I have lived through bullying at school and abuse at home simultaneously. I have lived through crippling loneliness. I have lived through being trapped in the pit of my own self-loathing. I have survived feeling so sick I physically cannot move. I have survived suicide attempts and self-harming. I survived having abusive roommates once I left my abusive home environment. I survived two nervous breakdowns. I survived a dozen medical tests. I survived feeling unloved most of my life. I survived three years of college and somehow made pretty good grades. I survived not having money for food and living off of microwave popcorn until my next paycheck. I survived countless panic attacks. I survived getting my wisdom teeth out and running out of pain meds too early, being in agonizing pain. I have survived every horrible day I have had in my almost twenty-one years (too many to possibly count). I have survived my life. I have survived all of the terrible situations I have been forced into. I am alive. I am still fighting. I am a survivor. If you keep fighting everything that drags you down, you are a survivor too. In between the moments of survival, there is happiness to be found. That makes everything worth it.