Throwing Stones

We all know that saying “those who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones” well soome stones were thrown and I’m not even going to bother helping to clean up this mess. It’s rare that I get so angry I yell, I usually just cry and sob hysterically (which is just such a great defense mechanism *said sarcastically*) and it’s even rarer for me to yell “I should just kill myself” and even rarer than that is for me to get so angry that I have a violent outburst (I never end up breaking anything…if anything I am the one who gets injured). Now for the rarest beast of them all, all three of those things happening within the same day. Let us now venture on to the events of Thursday, April 24.

The day started off with me having a follow up with my gynecologist to discuss my lupron injections. Besides me being hot all the time, I haven’t had much endometriosis pain and the best part NO PERIODS!!! There is one potential problem, when I saw my oncologist the previous week, my liver enzymes were elevated and my oncologist was not super concerned but wants repeat labs in 6 weeks. [they asked if I had taken any tylenol or had alcohol recently and I said not within the past month or two, forgetting that I had alcohol at the beginning of April. My mom later corrected me and was kind of upset that I didn’t remember that but I was stressed with finals and packing my stuff that it slipped my memory and still should affect my labs that long after.] I let my Gyn know about those results she also wasn’t super concerned and agreed with the repeat labs in 6 weeks because if they are more elevated it is most likely that my liver is struggling with the injection. She asked if I had taken any tylenol or had any alcohol recently and I hadn’t within the last 2-3 weeks of my labs. We discussed some other things but overall everything is going pretty well for treating my endometriosis. My mom and I went home and then she took my dad to work. When she got back that was when things went downhill. I was in the kitchen trying to decide if I wanted to eat or not and my mom says “just so you know there’s something your dad asked me to do.” And then she pauses and so of course I ask “what?” and I have to ask it multiple times. To which she finally responds “your dad told me to pour out all of the open alcohol (there were only two bottles that really didn’t have much in them) because your liver enzymes were elevated and I didn’t tell him.” To which I yelled “What the hell! So he thinks I’m an alcoholic!” she tried to say something to which I just said “what the actual fuck” and punched a wall screamed and went upstairs, slammed my bedroom door, and cried for about three minutes. I then went back downstairs and told her “neither of you get to know what my next lab results are, I am not going to tell you.” To which she got angry and then I asked “did you even try to defend me” and she said “no, I didn’t get the chance because your dad thinks your I’m cheating and your in kahoots with me.” I then yelled “well then why the hell are you still married to him?” She says “because he’s my husband” and I yell “that is just bullshit.” [WARNING this is where really nasty bitchy me comes out and I am not proud of it but this has literally been bottled up for years.] I then scream “what hell kind of example are you setting for me? If I marry someone abusive or that treats me like shit IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT! because that’s the example you are setting.” She stormed off to the kitchen and I yell “I should just kill myself! and I hate my life!” and I stormed back up to my room and slammed the door.

Now you may be wondering if the story stops there. No, no it does not.

While I am angry and sitting on my bed sobbing in rage, my mom screams from the kitchen, and of course me being me, I already knew that she had either done something stupid or was about to. So I angrily go down to the kitchen where I see my mom with a death grip on a chef knife and a butter knife. I immediately grabbed the knife’s, which she fought me on, I got the knives out of her hands and threw them into the dishwasher and told her to go do something else. She refused and told me to leave her alone which of course I didn’t let her. She finished making the tuna salad with me standing in the kitchen watching her. I apologized for how I said what I said to her but I meant what I said to her. I also said “If you’re going to kill yourself, kill me first because I don’t want to be stuck with him.” I then stood in the kitchen until she left to go to work.

I have not spoken to my dad since Easter nor do I really intend to for the foreseeable future. I sick of all of his bullshit, insecurity, the world revolving around him. I haven’t spoken to my mom since thursday and I really don’t want to talk to her either.

The stones have been thrown and this time I am not going to help pick up the pieces. I am so over this bullshit family dynamic and I am so stupid for letting myself get hurt over an over in the process. Going to University is what is supposed to stress me out and be a challenge but instead I get stuck with not only University stress, I get my shitty homelife to go on top of it all. There is really no way for me to escape my parents until I am 100% not reliant on them for anything, which is going to take a while to happen, as my dad likes to sabotage my successes and my mom is so naive pay attention and take action.

I’m tired of fighting and I’m tired of being hurt by the people who are supposed to be my parents. It’s terrible that I dream of the day that I can cut myself off from them. They both think that I am going to be the child that takes care of them when they get old, but I’m not. They have two other children that can do that I’m out. The times when I needed them most they ignored me or blamed me. When I asked them to listen to me, they pushed me to the side. When I told them the truth, they were quick to believe the lies of other people. My story doesn’t matter to them. I am only sick to them when it is convenient. They only care about putting on a good face and lying to everyone about things going well. I am sick of that facade and I have ZERO shits to give anymore. It’s not worth my energy to pretend all is well.

Chronic Pain vs. Narcotics vs. My Parents

I understand that the US is in the middle of an opioid epidemic but why do we keep shaming people that need to use them to manage their pain. I do not use any narcotic medications on a regular basis only as needed and I reserve it for really bad pain days where I am in so much pain I can’t move. For the past 6 months I have been having severe pain in my right leg and more recently pain in my entire spine. I have instability in my cervical spine (neck) and my lumbar spine (low back). The vertebrae in my neck and back show degeneration and possible osteoarthritis. I also have some mildly bulging discs in my lumbar spine and a mild posterior displacement of my L5 vertebrae over my Sacrum. I have very limited motion in my thoracic spine due to very tight spinal muscles and this causes pain in my shoulder blades, ribs, and back. I also have a connective tissue disease that causes joint dislocations and a host of other problems. I am constantly in pain. I am really lucky to have friends that don’t make me feel bad for needing to take a narcotic medication and often will encourage me to do so when they see I am in a lot of pain. But the problem comes with my parents. When I had surgery in 2016 my mom didn’t get my Tylenol #3 prescription filled because she felt I didn’t need to take it. Luckily I was fine and was not in a lot of pain (as I had lost feeling in and around the surgical site due to most likely a nerve being removed or damaged during surgery). My port surgery was brutal and my mom had my Tylenol #3 prescription filled but kept pushing me to get off it as soon as possible. The last surgery I had was in 2018 and I woke up in so much pain from that surgery I was hyperventilating and couldn’t speak or open my eyes and I was sobbing. They prescribed me Hydrocodone which my parents filled but my mom told me multiple times that I needed to get off it as soon as possible. I understand and am completely aware that many people get addicted to pain medications after a surgery, but it’s not helpful when you need to take narcotic pain medications to have people who are taking care of you openly express their discontent with you taking the medication. I used to have really bad period cramps to the point I was missing school, puking, and crying on the floor I was in so much pain (we found out I had ovarian cysts and in 2018 found out I have endometriosis which why I was in so much pain). I had 3 ER trips due to period pain and each time was prescribed Tramadol to take home.  I used to take a lot of tylenol and motrin. For tylenol to even touch the pain I had to take 2,000-2,500mg and for motrin, I had to take 1,000 mg and I would have to cycle between those every 2 to 3 hours. That much medication is not healthy for your liver or kidneys. Naproxen worked for a little while but for me to even be able to go about my daily life on my period (because my parents were against birth control when I was under 18) Tramadol worked best. My dad will make comments about my medication use and state that he “doesn’t have to take all these medications even when he’s injured.” If I mention being in pain to either of my parents I always get the response “what do you want me to do about it?” It’s never: “have you taken anything for it?” “Do you want ice or heat?” “How bad is your pain?” or even “Do you want a hug?”

I saw my neurologist and he basically gave me the options of seeing a spinal surgeon, a pain management physician for steroid injections, or continuing with PT. I told my mom this and as soon as she heard pain management she immediately says “No, you don’t need any narcotics.” I literally said nothing about narcotics and that it would be for steroid injections around the irritated nerve in my back, but what she assumed was narcotics. I know not to even ask my dad about narcotics because he is just going to tell me all about how I just need to eat better and exercise and that he doesn’t need any medications.

It takes a lot for me to say that I am in a lot of pain. I was in excruciating pain, almost in tears, and instead of helping my body by taking a Tylenol #3, I instead waited 2 hours to see if the pain would get better on its own, I stretched, ate breakfast, attempted some homework, and then asked my friend what I should do when the pain got worse. Of course he told me to take the Tylenol #3, but I should not feel that insecure and guilty about treating my pain. Because of all of the restrictions the US has put into place around narcotic medications I have a very limited supply and access. I have had my doctors and nurses tell me it’s ok to ask if I need pain meds, especially during a flare, but I don’t because if my parents find out, I am shamed for using them.

This stigma and shame surrounding using narcotic medications for pain management is shameful and I honestly believe it does more harm than good. For people who have diagnosed chronic or acute conditions that cause severe pain, they should be able to take the medication that helps them best to continue on with their daily life. I should not feel guilty or have to hide from my parents when I need to take a narcotic medication. You can’t compare your pain to other people’s pain. It’s not healthy to be in high amounts of pain for days at a time. I shouldn’t have to refuse pain medications to satisfy my parents. Chronic Illness sucks as is and it sucks even more when you have parents and/or other people in your life that make you feel like shit for something that is out of your control. My dad likes to tell my mom and I that I am only in pain because I stay in bed so much (because he assumes that if I am in my room I am in my bed. more times than not I am laying or sitting on my floor). He never thinks, maybe she’s in bed because she doesn’t feel well or she is in a lot of pain. According to him my pain and illnesses arise because I am in bed and don’t exercise enough.

The worst part of all of this, is that I cannot voice any of this to my parents because it will be met with resentment and fall on deaf ears. Instead of listening they attack, and in this situation I am the one who suffers and they don’t care enough to realize that.

Why Should I Live?

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. I hope you enjoy this poem.

 

It is a question I’ve pondered many many times

Why should I not take my own life?

All I hear back are the words of others.

“Suicide is selfish. Think of all of the people you are going to hurt”

“What will this do to your family and friends”

“You’re going to tear everyone apart”

Oh and may favorite one

“I need you to stay alive”

What is it exactly you need me to stay alive for?

Last time I checked you can do everything to survive on your own.

Do you need me around so you can tell me how miserable things are for you

And then to completely ignore me because your problems are “worse”

Do you need me to give you advice that you completely ignore?

Do you need me to just be there without you acknowledging my presence?

You see to you and so many other people I am already invisible

My voice is not heard and I am constantly being pushed away by people

Who say that they love me

You see actions speak much louder than words

What do I have to do to get you to hear me and to listen to the words I say?

Your words say I love you but your actions don’t reflect that

When I say I want to die

The question raised to me is why would you want to do that?

You see I have been made to feel as though I am insignificant

That I am not important

I should not speak up for what I believe in

I am a disrespectful person

And that

I am the problem

Tell me if you felt this way would you want to live?

Why when I ask people to give me a reason to live,

I either get the Bible thrown in my face

or

That it’s just selfish to take my own life as I will hurt those who love me

I feel like if I killed myself, a lot of people would feel like it’s their fault

So they need me to stay alive so they won’t feel guilty

It’s never been about me, always other people

I guess I’m lucky that I have found friends and an amazing therapist

Obviously they don’t want me to kill myself

But they make me feel like I matter

And that I am important

And not a problem

They give me reasons to live that isn’t for their personal benefit.

I get to be myself and work through my struggles with them

without feeling like I am a burden

They call me out when I am being dramatic

They call me out on my Bullshit when I am the one making things worse for myself

They do this out of love and not from a place a malice because they care

But still,

Why should I live?

Well I should live because I have realized that I want to

I want to live because I have a story that needs to be shared

And a voice that needs to be heard

There are days where I don’t want to keep going

But I know if I stop

My story won’t be told how I want it and my voice won’t be heard

I want to better my life for me

And the only way to do that is live

My story isn’t over yet,

It’s just barely started

My EDNOS Story and ED Relapse (again)

*Trigger warning read at your own risk* I am putting a trigger warning on here because I am going to be talking about eating disorders. I do not promote eating disorders I just have one.

I was diagnosed 2 years ago with an Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified (EDNOS) after having 2 fainting spells at school. I was dehydrated from not drinking fluids and purging (making myself vomit) and my body didn’t have enough nutrients to maintain consciousness. Fainting is scary especially when your are going in and out of consciousness and it is also kind of embarrassing when you faint in front of your entire class.

Let’s go back a lot further to when I first started having an unhealthy relationship with food and body image. I was about 8 years old. I had become less active due to the beginnings of my chronic joint pain (we still don’t know what is causing it and all of the doctors I have seen about it blame it on me having depression) so I started to gain weight. I was no longer a skinny bony child I was overweight but not significantly. I still wanted to be active and do gymnastics but my dad stopped allowing me to do it because I was “bigger than the other girls.” My dad would tell me I was bigger and I knew that it was his way of calling me fat without saying fat. My brother would just call me fat and my dad wouldn’t say anything about it. So I started skipping meals. I would say I wasn’t feeling well or sleep through dinner. Neither of my parents said anything or showed any concern. I would starve myself for days at a time and they didn’t notice. They noticed everything I did wrong or that my brother told them I was doing wrong and I was just a fish out of water. They didn’t listen to me and they seemed to only care about my brother.

During this time I was also sexually assaulted/abused. I did tell my parents but they didn’t believe me, and because of their disbelief of what I told them, they don’t remember (which is a another bundle of emotions). This person made sure to tell me how insignificant I was and held what he did over my head constantly.

The restricting of eating gave me control over something that only I had control over. My parents couldn’t force me to eat so I wouldn’t. The thing is, I didn’t lose a significant amount of weight during my childhood restrictions on eating.

Then middle school came. I still went back and forth with restricting and eating but it got worse during 8th grade. My parents had me in therapy since I told someone that I wanted to kill myself and I had started cutting so instead of trying to talk to me about any of it they made me feel even worse about myself and then paid someone to deal with me. They still didn’t care to listen to what I was trying to tell them and they just accused me of being attention seeking and learning how to self harm from the internet (them not knowing that I had been self harming for years before that).

Then High School came. It’s important to note that the high school I went to was a more academically intense school where almost all of my classes were honors classes. The first week of high school my dad grounded me for a stupid reason and took my phone. So I decided to restrict my eating. I basically had under 100 calories a day for an entire week and also did not speak to him for the entire time that he took away my phone. I have always been smart and found ways around punishments such as punishing my parents (not talking to them/ignoring them) and lots of reading (which let me go on other types of adventure without having to leave my bed). Then I had hospitalization number one where I spent 3 days in a psych hospital. Sophomore year happened and I had 2 more psych hospitalizations. Then Junior year happened. That was when I started purging. I was stressed (from school) and nothing seemed to be working out and I felt so ignored by my parents. So the 2 fainting spells happened before the psych hospitalization Junior year and were part of the reason for my hospitalization. It was (and still is) really hard for me to verbalize how I am feeling so all I knew was I hated myself and everything regarding living. I was really depressed and anxious (to the point of daily panic attacks) and it was a terrible feeling and I just wanted it to end. I am very thankful for the amazing therapist I had at the time because after that hospitalization she decided to up my therapy from once a week to twice a week. We talked about my eating at every session, how many calories I had eaten that day/what I had eaten, what was my caloric intake goal every day, how many calories I was burning from exercise, etc. and the really wonderful thing that my therapist at the time did, was that she didn’t push me to eat more or try to shove the food is fuel speech down my throat. She just listened, took notes, and nodded. Sometimes she would ask (especially on a day where I had only had around 200-400 calories) how much water I had and/or how I was feeling that day. We did that for one or two months and then went back to once a week when I came home from Washington D.C. We also decided that after the semester was over that I would transfer to another school that would be less stressful for me. It was hard to leave but I still have amazing friends that I still talk with and hang out with. Then that therapist took a promotion so she couldn’t be my therapist anymore so I switched off to another therapist who I saw 7 times total before she also to the same promotion and then switched me off to her cousin who is now my current therapist.

I somehow made it through the rest of junior year and all of senior year without anything super major happening with my eating until now.

From having cancer and doing chemo it changed my appetite to the point of me not really being hungry. But I did eat during treatment when I was feeling up to it and not nauseous. Near the end of my treatment my one of the physician assistants told me that my weight was down. They didn’t think much of it and just told me to make sure I was eating as well as I could. For the weeks following the end of my treatment my appetite didn’t return and I still was feeling crappy. But I saw my weight dropping. I had lost 10 pounds over about 2 weeks. That made me really happy. So when my appetite did come back I still restricted. Yesterday I weighed myself and saw that I have lost about 20 pounds in the past month. It made me happy to see the number on the scale going down instead of going up or staying the same. Then I ate dinner, and felt so disgusting because it wasn’t a healthy meal so I purged. This was the 3rd time I had purged this year. I don’t purge often because I sing and it can damage the vocal chords and because I personally don’t like the feeling of vomiting. I only did it because I felt that I had to. I knew that if I didn’t the disgusting feeling I had would just linger.

A lot of people don’t understand eating disorders. There are treatment options for Eating Disorders but there is no cure. People will ask me “why do you keep doing this when you know it can/will harm your body?” or they say “you’re smart why are you doing this?” There really isn’t an answer to why I keep doing this other than I have an illness and it’s what I know how to do when it comes to coping. When people tell me that I am smart but what I am doing is stupid is really frustrating. My intelligence has noting to do with my reasoning skills when I am in the heat of the moment or crying over my bowl of 265 calories worth of cereal with milk knowing that I will probably go and purge, take a laxative, and/or feel the need to burn off all of the calories and then some doing cardio. Every time I eat I am anxious. Eating with family and friends is hard because I feel like they are judging me for how much or how little I am eating and/or how fast or slow I am eating. Then me trying to drink lots of water so that I won’t be lying when I use the excuse of not being very hungry or not feeling well.

I told 2 of my friends about my purge because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t tell my therapist that I purged when I saw her, but she knows that my eating has been crap and that it’s not due to a post-chemo side effect. Since we worked on my trauma narrative, we did not go into depth talking about my eating this week because it was the end of my session and we finally got to a point where I wasn’t overly anxious and since I haven’t fainted we didn’t discuss it more. Next week we probably will but on the bright side next week is our last session for 2 weeks because of Christmas and she will be gone for one week and then the second week we didn’t schedule because she decided a break would be good (this was 2 weeks ago when she made that determination). She is aware that I will only reach out to her between sessions if it has to do with me not feeling safe/needing to be talked off a ledge or just to vent. Other than that my eating/lack there of is not talked about with her outside of my sessions.

Eating Disorders are really really REALLY shitty and hard to deal with especially when people look at it as a choice or a fad diet. Everyone has a different reason for onset and a different severity of the disease. For me it never really goes away I learn new ways to deal with it and I can make it through a few months and then what I was doing stops working and I have to find something new to try. Most importantly I have to want to try something different. Right now I don’t want do anything about my eating except continue to restrict and start doing daily cardio and stretching again. Yes I am completely aware of what I am doing yet I also don’t feel like I have a choice. I don’t plan on doing anymore purging but if it happens it happens. I don’t plan on voluntarily talking about my eating with my therapist unless she asks about it. I currently do not see my eating as problematic. That may change in a few days, months, years, or never, I don’t even know.

Thankful

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays along with Christmas and New Years. It’s a great reminder for all of the things to be thankful for.

This year I am thankful for:

Going 2 years without self harming

No psychiatric hospitalizations for 2 years

My adorable baby cousin (and her 2 other siblings)

My therapist

My parents (even though they piss me off)

My extended family

My 2 very different friend groups (that I don’t dare to mix together)

TFCBT, even though it makes me VERY uncomfortable

My church and the people that I have met through church

Graduating from High School

Being accepted into University (even though I had to defer everything because of cancer)

Having this blog

 

2 years ago, the week before thanksgiving, I spent it in a psychiatric hospital. I was so angry with the world and felt so ignored by my parents. I was set on taking my life. If it weren’t for my friend who called the police, I would probably be dead. Looking at all of the things I would have missed out on, makes me want to cry. That following year I got a new therapist and we have made so much progress. I did make a lot of progress with my other therapist and we had just started TFCBT and before that I had never gave any details or really even talked about my trauma with any of my therapists. I also never texted any of my therapists before her. With my current therapist we have made progress on being more specific of details that happened in my trauma (which makes me really uncomfortable and I hate it) but it is slowly helping. For a lot of people Thanksgiving is just a time to be thankful and spend time with family, but for me it’s a reminder that I have friends and family that want/need me around and that there is so much more for me to experience.

So this year and every year my one big thing I am thankful for is my life.

I would love to hear what you are thankful for this year.

ED Relapse

So for the past month or so I have been really struggling with body image and eating. There were days that I would eat anywhere from 350-600 calories and other days where I would eat the recommended 1,200 calories exercising with both. But after having surgery to remove my lymph node I was not able to be active because it caused me pain to walk. Also my mom wouldn’t let me go swimming even though my surgeon said that I could swim 5 days post-op. He told my mom Monday (11 days post-op) that it would be fine for me to swim. The news I received from my surgeon was not the greatest (I’m not at the point of actually sharing what it is but after I meet with another doctor next week and know more, I’ll decide then).

Today when I went to follow up with my PCP for my hand (the reason I haven’t been able to make posts) she told me that I had gained a lot of weight in the past 2 months. One thing we never talked about was my weight because she was aware that I have an eating disorder. My blood pressure was high 132/82 but that’s mostly because she had just told me that I gained a lot of weight. I was frustrated with that and I was already anxious. 132/82 with me being frustrated and anxious is not that high. She then proceeded to tell me that I need to make healthier food choices (which I already do). So when I left her office and got in my car, I just cried for a good 5 minutes. I just felt so bad about myself.

I then proceeded to go to the store to buy the same weight loss pills that I did before when I relapsed, plus one that I hadn’t tried before but had good reviews. It wasn’t a completely conscious decision but I felt like I had to do it. I took them when I got home and about an hour after I made lunch because I was hungry but I made sure of calories and serving size.

After I ate, I had the feeling that I have most often after eating anything except negative calorie foods, I need to purge. I usually I am able to ignore it and move on with my day, but this time I couldn’t. I just felt disgusting.

I struggled with my self for about 5 minutes trying to decide whether or not I wanted to. Then like second nature I purged. I know that if I directly told any of my friends that I purged they would just tell me how bad it is for me and that I should stop. But what a lot of them realize is that there’s only so much that I have control over. When they tell me “just eat a smaller portion size or eat a salad” well I’ve tried that before and I still feel like purging and I have purged that too.

---

What this means for me right now:

As of right now I am probably not going to eat for the rest of today or I will eat minimally and I relapsed and I don’t know how far this will go. It could just be one day and I move on with life pre-relapse or I could go back down into the hole of an eating disorder. With my past history with purging I purged at least twice a week and used laxatives fairly often after meals. I have already started to become concerned with calories, fat, and sodium content, and I created a list of foods that I should eat and exercises and how many calories they burn. I’m at a point where I really don’t care if I fully relapse.

 

Struggling

Over the past few weeks I have started to struggle with my eating again and it’s getting pretty bad. To the point where I am only eating 500-1000 calories per day. I haven’t purged which is a good thing but I honestly want to every time after I eat. I also haven’t started exercising excessively but that will probably happen at some point. But I’m back to feeling super anxious after eating and it’s nearly impossible for me to stay sitting. (I’m actually at school right now standing up fidgeting because I have to move.)

I’m somewhat scared about severely relapsing so I am making sure that I am drinking a lot of water so I don’t get dehydrated and pass out. I’m not really trying to stop the relapse because I like the feeling that I get with the control. But I’m also not okay with relapsing because if it does get to the point where my parents and therapist think that I need help then they are going to keep me from going on school trips or make sure that someone is making sure that I am eating and keeping it in me. It’s my senior year and I want to go on trips but I want to feel in control. I’m also starting a new job and I don’t want to give that up.

I really haven’t talked about this much with my therapist because I started TFCBT (Trauma Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) and I would rather do that then talk about my eating. I know that part of the reason for my relapse is that we started studying nutrition and the digestive system and my therapist knew that I was kinda relapsing already and didn’t want to push me over the edge so it was recommended that I shouldn’t do two of the assignments that may push me over the edge. So I had to have a conversation with my teacher that included me telling him that I have an eating disorder and that I didn’t feel comfortable doing two assignments. That was probably one of the most uncomfortable and awkward conversations I have ever had. I didn’t want to have the conversation but it was either I had to do it, my therapist was going to do it, I was going to relapse, or my friend was going to do it. None of these were good options for me.

So basically I have accepted the fact that I am going to relapse (I have been fighting it for months now) and I’m just going to deal with it.

When Things Get Hard

The last two weeks of October were rough for me. I’m finally going through that stage in my life where I’m trying to figure out who I am as a person. I’ve been through this slightly before but it was because I was at a new school and I knew two other people there. Now I go to a school where I know more people but I don’t feel like I belong. It’s my senior year and I feel like I’m going through the freshman transition. I’m confused and I’m losing who I am as a person.

Then there’s a lot of stuff going at home. My mom has a new job so I don’t see her in the mornings anymore and she doesn’t come home until around 7 or 8 every night. Now I really only spend time with her on the weekends and it sucks. My mom is literally my best friends and now I don’t get to spend much time with her anymore. Also our car is having a bunch of issues now and it needs new tires and breaks. It has over 120,000 miles on it and it’s the only car that we have that works. The other car that we have hasn’t run in over a year and has close to $3,000 in repairs. Money is pretty tight right now so we have to focus on what is needed right now and that’s the car that runs and we have to figure out how we’re going to afford new tires and breaks. After that we have to take it in to find out why the heat isn’t working. Once my dad gets a new job, then we will be able to get the other car fixed and/or get a new car. But until then we have to use one vehicle and figure out how to get 3 people who need to be in different places at the same time to their destination. And I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.

Then there’s me again with all of my emotions that I’m trying so hard to cover up because I don’t want to deal with them and I don’t know how to deal with them. There are two guys that I like but I don’t want to deal with my feelings because I don’t know how to. There’s nothing I can do about it. I have just been waiting it out and hoping that my feelings for them would just disappear but they don’t seem to be going anywhere. I kind of wish they would. There are so many other things that I’m trying to figure out and emotions that I’m trying to deal with and remembering why I stopped cutting and just trying to find that reason not to give up and a reason to keep living.

Usually when things would get hard for me, my first thought was “I need to cut.” Then I would consider trying to would try to work though what was causing me to be overwhelmed. But most times, especially when things were really hard, I would think about dying. And it wasn’t because I wanted to end my life, it was because I wanted to breathe. I wanted the feeling of being overwhelmed to go away because it made me feel as if there was this constant weight on my chest making it hard to breathe. “Depression is like drowning. Except you can see everyone around you breathing.” That quote is the most accurate way to describe how I was feeling. I wanted nothing more than to just breathe like everyone else.

Now when I am feeling overwhelmed I try to be in the moment with my feelings. I’ll ask myself “Why am I feeling this way?” and “What can I do to not feel this way?” I have mostly stopped pretending that I have it all together. That’s one reason I started this blog. I was tired of pretending. Sometimes I still do pretend that I have it together. When people ask me how I am really doing, I will still say I am fine. Sometimes I do it because I don’t want to be vulnerable in that moment or because I really don’t know how to put my feelings into words.

Being completely honest with the way I am feeling right now, things have been and are falling apart for me right now and I am trying to pick up the pieces, I am not suicidal and I don’t want to hurt myself or anyone in anyway, and I’m trying to stay in a good place.

How to Forgive and Why You Should

Forgiving someone is probably one of the hardest things to do. I’m not talking about accepting someone’s apology, but 100% forgiving them. It’s not a quick process it can take a while to fully forgive someone but its worth it.

Right now I want you to take a minute and think about someone who you have not fully forgiven. It could be a parent, a sibling, a friend, an abuser, someone who you saw at the store who was rude to you, etc., it could be anyone and as you read through this I want you to keep them in mind. Don’t continue to read until you have at least one person in mind or absolutely can’t think of anyone.

Right now I want to say that for EVERYONE forgiveness looks different. It’s also not a perfect science but finally doing it should make you feel better.

I watched a movie in 2009 called ‘Madea Goes to Jail’ and it has become one of my favorite movies. Not just because it was a funny movie, but because of one line that was said, “Forgiveness is not for them, it’s for you.” I think this is the most important thing as to why forgiveness is so important. If you spend all of your time refusing to forgive someone you live your life being held down by that baggage. I understand that an abuser is probably going to be one of the hardest people to forgive but it is possible and it takes time. For me when I finally forgave I felt free and empowered. The process of going through the forgiving was not easy. I am the type of person who pushes down all of my negative feelings and I don’t deal with them. But going through the process of forgiveness forced me to deal with the anger and hurt and sadness that I felt surrounding the situation. There were times that I was just angry for absolutely no reason and I took it out on my mom. I’m so thankful that I have such an amazing mom because after things like that happened she just waited for me to chill out and then we talked about it. It took me probably about 2 years to finally forgive this person and everyday that this skeleton starts to creep up on me I have to tell my self that I forgave this person and I don’t have to be okay with what happened but it happened and I have to live the life that I have for now and not dwell on what happened.

So I am going to give the three steps that I used to forgive

1. Acknowledging what happened and admitting that it was not my fault
2. Talking to my therapist about what happened
3. Saying out loud that I forgave this person

For step one acknowledging what happened was very important but admitting that it wasn’t my fault was hard. For this step if part of it was your fault you have to admit that. For those of you who were sexually abused you need to know what happened to you was not your fault.

For step two talking to my therapist was difficult because I had never told anyone about it so I was never able to work through it. Talking to someone who can help you work through it is crucial. It doesn’t have to be a therapist. For some people talking to the person who they need to forgive can help with the process. But if talking to that person puts you in any danger or you don’t feel comfortable doing it, DON’T DO IT. There are plenty of other people you can talk to, find a mentor, talk to a parent, someone you trust, but you have to talk about it.

For step three I said the person’s name out loud that I needed to forgive. But there are many ways to do this. Some people write out what happened and/or the person’s name and then burned the paper they wrote it on. Some people rip up the paper. Some people go up to the person and tell them that they forgive them. With step three it allows for that person you are forgiving to lose power over you and your happiness. Step three is the reason that forgiveness is worth it. You are no longer allowing for that person to have ANY control over you. YOU get to live YOUR life they way YOU want to. It’s empowering to feel in control again. You set yourself free with forgiveness.

Don’t rush the process of trying to forgive someone it takes time. Also these steps are the ones that I use and that work for me. Everyone is different and just because something worked for me does not mean that it is going to work for you, and that is completely okay. You are going to have to figure out what works and what doesn’t work for you and not get discouraged because one thing doesn’t work. You can do it!

If you need someone to reach out to feel free to send me a message to me on Facebook and I may not be able to help and if I can’t I will tell you and help you find someone who can. Keep going and keep living because you are worth it.

~”Perseverance is failing 19 times and succeeding the 20th.” Julie Andrews~