What If I Told You; You’re Not Alone?

It’s odd how wanting to die changes you. There’s a new tenderness when you survive something like that. Like you’ll forever be living like an open wound.

People always want to hear about healing in the past tense like it’s something you do once and it’s over. They want the hero’s story, the epic tale of how we triumphed over pain.. but it’s not like that.

Healing isn’t a straight line, it’s a commitment we make to ourselves every damn day. You may not see it on the surface but you’re not alone in these feelings. I am here and they are here. This is the ripple effect.

One story shared is another story shared. Another ally created. Another life saved. Each and everyone’s experience causes a ripple effect and their resilience saves me. I am so proud of you for being here and your story will help so many people who are here too.

I have been healing for 10 years. A series of experiences triggered something in my brain. I think I’ve always had a submissive and sensitive personality growing up so subsequently I learned some unhealthy coping mechanisms growing up such as avoidance. This led to other experiences of trauma throughout my life such as toxic relationships, abuse, sexual assault, and near death experiences. At first, I had negative experiences with seeking mental health services and went through different diagnoses like panic disorder and mood disorders, medications, clinicians, therapists, testing, etc. As I’ve grown up, I’ve been better at advocating for myself and educating myself. This isn’t true with authority systems though smh and I struggle with our justice system. Trying to make change can be difficult. I continue to blame myself for many of the traumatic events I experienced and am working to believe that they weren’t my fault. This has been years in the making. I’ve been recently working with my therapist to face my physical feelings of fear, to be able to sit with it, and to comfort myself. I’m scared of working through these feelings which I shut away in order to get through difficult times. I hate flashbacks and nightmares. I think I’m most fearful of interacting with people in my past, especially my perpetrators and their friends, losing my loved ones, and not being good enough. But despite all of these obstacles I am proud of my growth and my strength. I had a lot of rock bottom moments and made it out on the other side. I’m proud that I used my voice to stand up for myself and listened to my gut when something wasn’t right. It was scary for me to speak up and tell my truth but I am proud I did it. Since starting therapy, I always wanted to finish and get to the other side of the healing. It feels like the progress you make is slow. Now I learned to change my perspective and try to take it day by day. Even little steps forward can make a difference in the long run. CBT has really helped me change the way I think about myself, such as speaking to myself as a friend. It also taught me how to challenge my negative thoughts and beliefs, to view things in different perspectives, and validate and notice my physical feelings. It’s difficult to sit with and tolerate anxiety but it can be done. It takes a lot of practice and relearning. It’s been a lot of hard work to focus on myself and healing. Thank you for reminding me to take a step back and recognize that. If my story resonates with you, I want you to know you’re not alone and you will get through this. You are stronger than you know and your resilience will pay off. You have gotten through tough times before and you will continue to. Day by day. You deserve to be loved and to be happy. — Anonymous she/her 29 (Chronic PTSD & Anxiety)

The pandemic was a blessing in disguise because I finally admitted it to myself; I have anxiety. I never was compassionate or empathetic to people who suffered from mental health issues. With a family member diagnosed with bi polar disorder, I perceived it as someone having an excuse to be a jerk, a scumbag. One of my closest friends suffered from severe panic attacks after graduating college, and instead of being the support system I should have been, it damaged our long standing relationship. I regret those opinions and actions after finally admitting to myself I battle with my mental health too. I was in denial for years because I was able to mask it by socializing with others. Socialization was my avoidance; my coping mechanism. It allowed me to keep the feelings and thoughts doormat. If I wasn’t thinking about those feelings then they’re not real, right? Everything changed when the pandemic hit. My “medicine” of socializing with people was out of refills. My life had changed forever. I’m not as comfortable as I have been in the past when interacting with new people. “Instead of chatting with someone in the Starbucks line, I am fearful they will get you sick or even worse the thought that my presence makes them feel uncomfortable. With anxiety, it becomes hard to breathe, my mind races.. I feel sick and I break down. I can hold it together on the surface, but my friends can see a change. They say “you’re not as fun as you used to be’’ and in my mind I’m just trying to ride this wave that’s drowning me at that moment. I am still trying to name my triggers. I feel that discovering these triggers will help me learn to cope and work on them before the depression takes over. I’m fearful my anxiety will get in the way of my relationships. I was the outgoing, party friend! I am down for whatever and I set that expectation of me, but honestly it’s not who I really am anymore. My mindfulness is greater than it used to be. I fear I am letting down that expectation. I’m fearful my anxiety will be perceived as annoying. I don’t want my anxiety to overcome me and affect my relationships, especially with my boyfriend. I see my life with him but I fear my anxiety causes a strain on our communication. Though this pandemic challenged me, I am proud of investing in myself. I have avoided my feelings and seeking help for most of my life. You would think jumping between my mom and dad’s house as a kid and as an adult sleeping out for weeks at a time would be a red flag but I was that ‘on the go’ girl. Now, I take care of myself and see my therapist, Erica, once a week. Go Erica! She allowed myself time to cope with my anxiety/depression during this pandemic. I’ve grown as a person and I know it is silly but I am proud I can be alone. Before therapy, I would have to be with anyone constantly. There wasn’t one moment I could enjoy my own space and thought. If you feel me on this, then I want you to know; You do not have to wait so long to get help and talk about these things. There is no shame or judgement. Don’t hide, run away and pack your vera bradley suitcase for an unknown destination with no end and no bed to rest. This getaway does not seek happiness. Happiness is not found on that trip or in others but found in your solace. You will find happiness within yourself first. — Shannon she/her 26 (Anxiety)

This journey is a lifetime story with the progression of 2 episodes. I truly believe I was born with it like a machine with a bad belt or bent frame. It got worse and progressed after being untreated and drug use long term. I fear missing out on life as I don’t know it. I want to be able to be a spouse, a parent, a family member but I often feel I’m not capable or worthy of these titles. I fear the unknown of the day I gain full control or the lack of experiences I will enjoy. Through all these fears, I am louder. I am proud of taking the first step and starting this journey that I choose every morning. I make this decision every day. I am proud of those around me and especially that human who showed me compassion and acceptance. She dealt with my mental illness for 2 years before I sought treatment. Before treatment, there were manic episodes with terrible results, weeks of depressive behaviors such as laying in bed for weeks, lost jobs, night terrors, and verbal abuse. After all this pain we endured, she was there when I needed someone the most. In the middle of the world’s worst pandemic to date, she gave me hope. She found a health insurance plan that fit exactly what I needed. She took care of me. She spent hours on phone calls until she found my doctor, my therapist and held me accountable to those commitments. Even at my worst, denying help, and pushing back.. She was always there. My point here is, I’m most proud of those who don’t struggle because they kept an open mind and saved those who need it the most. Out of all things, just know.. you are not crazy for feeling the way you do but you don’t have to feel this way all the time. Mental health is a fickle thing. The majority of the world is struggling; especially now! Society is making strides to accept this, it’s a beautiful unity that has just begun within the subject and I truly feel we are making great progress. To make this short here’s an example of how sad mental illness can be and how beautiful at the time. This summer, I chose to take a road trip 1,200 miles away from my home to show up at my mother’s door. The catch is, I haven’t seen my mother in 7 years. Sounds like a great summer story? Nah. What the audience doesn’t know is that I simply ditched work with no notice, emptied my bank account, didn’t say a word to my significant other at the time and left. In my mind, this is a great idea to see my mother — nothing could go south at all. I was doing nothing wrong, simple as that. After 11 hours and 4 red bulls, I pulled up to my mother’s door at 5AM.. We hugged, we cried.. then I crashed. Every bit of light was taken from me as I plunged into darkness. My mother knew all too well what was about to happen and did what she could but for the next 4 days I layed in bed staring at a wall in what I can only describe as a limbo of no emotion. The visit still warms my heart but at the moment I should have been the happiest but I felt the most alone and sad because I couldn’t show my mother how I really felt. The harsh truth is I’ve driven my family away, I’ve pushed a lot of friends away, and I lost the one I loved because I was too stubborn and selfish to seek help in time. I didn’t act fast enough and yeah a lot of this sounds awful and not inspiring but that’s the catch. Today, I’m ok. I have wonderful friends, I have a family who loves me unconditionally and I am able to be emotionally available for all of them. So when my shot comes to be a parent and a spouse; I am capable and worthy to sit with myself and be happy. I have mental wealth. There is beauty in the madness. — Anonymous 28 (Bi Polar Disorder & Manic Depression)

My mind has challenged me for as long as I can remember about my body image and self-esteem. I’ve doubted myself for the past 4 years. There have been issues with family for the last 12 years off and on and anxiety for 6 years or so. I only remember having anxiety for the past 6 years, but it was it’s highest in high school. I dated gang members who didn’t hide their lifestyle from me. I saw a lot of things I shouldn’t have in high school at the hands of these relationships. I’ve experienced multiple traumatic events in those relationships that still stick with me today. Growing up, I fought a lot.. like a lot. I was a fighter. I had real bad anger issues because I felt I was bad with my words so fighting was the only way I knew how to get my point across. My family contributes to a lot of my stressors. I am chubby and my family is and always has been extremely hard on me for it. I don’t feel accepted by them. I was never taught to love my body but rather hate it and have been extremely critical of myself ever since. A lot of my negatives were pointed out rather than my positives and that weighs me down still. How do I think otherwise if no one challenged me to think positive since I was a little girl? Of course, this method does no one good and then like others the bullying started which ignited the flame of anger within me. I think my thoughts of self-doubt comes from within. I feel that I do not fully trust myself sometimes. I’ve always put myself in dangerous situations which led to more traumatic events and a sexual assault. Sexual assault is never the victim’s fault but I’ve been taught growing up that many things were my fault so changing my mindset is very challenging. I really have a hard time forgiving myself in any situation. Addiction and crime are prominent in my family, and most family issues are warped around that. A sibling of mine had a suicide attempt a few years ago. When I was a toddler a family member got beat up by her boyfriend in front of me. A few of my cousins were and still are in and out of jail. This all haunts me. What I am most fearful of is being alone and not being successful. What I am most proud of is graduating college and working in my field of choice. When I was eleven, my dad’s side of the family took a trip to Disney for my grandpa’s birthday. The whole time, all I wanted to do was go on Splash Mountain because you get drenched with water and it was the middle of July in Florida. Finally, on the third day we waited in line for 3 hours for Splash Mountain. When we finally got to the front of the line, my younger sibling burst into hysterics. At the time I thought she was fucking weird, who cries at Disney?! Right?! I now recognise my sibling was suffering from their first anxiety attack. I never understood anxiety until about 6 years ago when I had my first attack after failing a test in school. The negative thoughts were deafening! I felt like my chest was caving in, I just wanted some damn air, I wanted to breathe. My body went numb, and I just froze. Since then, I have been in therapy and on medication for my anxiety. It helps, but it’s still not fully controlled. If you come from a different background than others or family has contributed to your health; please know that you are beautiful, strong and smart. Never let anyone’s opinion define your worth. Trust you and make good decisions. For all those struggling with mental health, just know there will be bad days but you are never ever alone. — Anonymous she/her 26 (Body Dysmorphia, General Anxiety & Depression)

For a long… long time since I was very young I had ADHD and anxiety. Once high school hit, depression spiked it up a notch. Lovely! I think my anxiety was ingrained in me, literally, from birth. I genuinely think my brain is wired in a way where I am naturally anxious. I think it came along hand-in-hand with my ADHD. I have mommy issues, controlling/mentally abusive ex issues, an addictive personality (addiction and alcoholism runs rampant in my bloodline), divorced parents that had a VERY ugly divorce only to get back together 3 years ago, a “mother in law” (not married but live with her son in the basement living space of their family home) who is not the easiest to get on with so yeah it’s fucking complicated to say the least. My last therapist just looked at me like I had three heads and said “Oh wow, that’s.. wow… wait how long were your parents divorced???” Yea lady, thanks, welcome to the freak show, that’ll be a dollar entry fee. K thanks bye. I think that, mixed with my adolescent/teenage/young adult struggles, relationships and traumas created the witch’s brew that is me today. I am fearful of failure, losing people, and death. My mind fixates on existential dread about death.. I go through periods of time where I am obsessive over mine, or ones I love, deaths. The unknown rocks me to my core and sends me spiraling.. even writing this I can feel the pit roiling in my stomach. I am proud of myself for getting myself the help I needed.. finally. Taking my medication on the daily, correctly, for the last 2 months after being on it for almost 10 years! Though I am a huge advocate for mental health, I don’t post about it much on social media or anything, but anyone that knows me knows that I am an open book to talk about my own issues, or listen to there’s. I encourage everyone to get the help because you deserve it. I try to explain to people who “don’t want to be drugged” that not everyone can produce their own serotonin (hi, nice to meet ya!) and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. When I was a kid, one of my parents worked at the same daycare I attended. I would PANIC if she walked by the door and I saw her. I was convinced she was leaving me.. totally irrational as she had NEVER abandoned me, but there was our first real dip into my panic attacks. If I didn’t know where my younger siblings were, I was convinced they had been hurt or snatched up so que the panic attacks. Thinking back on high school, I was a hot mess when it came to my mental state back then and it makes me shudder. Ugh high school. I was high strung, partying, getting drunk, you know the deal.. I was in a toxic relationship being gaslighted and cheated on only to stay to deal with the bullshit because he was my “rock.” I didn’t know or see anything else because the “rock” who clearly just sat there and didn’t do shit like a rock does.. my significant other was the only constant I thought I had through my parents shitty divorce so I clung to it. That chapter of my life, I could ramble on forever about what it did to my state of mind. Flash forward post college, my relationship with my mother was so bad, a call from her would send me into tunnel vision but you know what? We’ve healed from this, I love my mom. I found the right ingredients for this brew to help me, a supportive boyfriend and amazing family and friends. I advocate for myself and make changes that I need throughout my journey. I pull up my bootstraps on the good days, and allow myself to have the bad days where I just can’t get myself out of bed. One day at a time. We are all in this together with love, respect and patience (along with some elbow grease and grit) is all we need to get through. One. Day. At. A. Time. So if you know what this witch brew tastes like, let me tell you: It’s ok to hurt, be vulnerable, and to ask for help. — Anonymous she/her 26 (Anxiety ADHD & Depression)

I’ve had these two bitches since I was 10 years old. When I was a child in elementary school, I recall having intense anxiety about going on the bus because I thought I was going to have to pee while on the bus to the point that I would refuse to go on the bus at all. My family would laugh it off, but I really think that’s when the anxiety began. My anxiety seems to stem from my fear of being an embarrassment, the fear of judgment from others and how they would perceive me. I also had immense worry as a child, fearful that something was going to happen to the ones I love. My dad used to tell me that I had a “pool” in my stomach. Since I cried all the time, the pool was going to run out of water. He encouraged me to stop worrying and not to cry because it was going to be OK. It’s ironic because then my dad passed away when I was 11, later followed by my mom being diagnosed with a chronic neurological disease when I was 25. My biggest fear/worry came true. To this day, I am still fearful that something bad will happen to my loved ones. I am very overprotective (sometimes overbearing) of my friends, family, and significant other. I am also fearful that I am going to do something that will make my loved ones mad at me/not talk to me again; I often play incidents over and over in my head where I could have done or said something differently. I am fearful that I’m not good enough/not doing enough for the ones I love. I fear that my past traumas have negatively affected the person I am now. You get the jist! And most importantly, I am proud of my growth from those fears. I think of myself 10 years ago at the age of 16 being reckless and careless in the worst way. 5 years ago, in my early 20s I was feeling lost, insecure, using drugs and alcohol to temporarily enhance my self-confidence, dealing with being sexually assaulted and normalizing it. I am extremely proud of my work around self-worth and the time I have taken to really get to know myself, my boundaries, my passions, my safe places, and how important it is to stand up for yourself and others. I will always be a work in progress and some days I don’t feel the self-love, but I look forward to 5 years from now and seeing the growth I will make from now until then. I believe that everyone has their exterior and interior lenses: what they portray to the outside looking in, and then they have what’s really going on inside. Some people can mask it and it appears to look like everything’s wonderful, butterflies inside. Others, like me wear their heart and thoughts on their sleeve and you can see exactly how they’re feeling that day/week/month. I feel as though it’s vital to be gentle with ourselves and others because we have no idea what is going on in someone’s “inside”. I think if we continue to have these raw conversations about mental health, our triggers, our trauma- then we can get a glimpse of what is really going on in someone’s brain, we find connections, can relate to one another, & help one another. Building this community is so important to end the stigma and be a support for one another to get through this, cause we all know this mental health shit can be fucked up sometimes! If that pool of yours is an endless amount of water, choose to use that water to grow the flowers instead. Know that the ones that matter, don’t care and the one’s that care, don’t matter. You are so much more than you think and it is never too late- you always have options and the ability to make a change. No one is stopping you besides yourself. It’s almost like you against your brain, and with tools like meditation, journaling, therapy, and speaking out, you can beat those negative thoughts. Please be kind, patient, and gentle with yourself, and remember that the people who are shaming you and stunting your growth simply don’t have a place within your space. The real ones don’t give a fuck. The real ones will love you on your worst/most insecure/self-doubting days. Communicate how you’re feeling with the ones that you trust. I am telling my present self some of these things too! — Erin she/her 26 (Anxiety & Depression)

I’ve drank this cocktail since I was 14 years old. I was bullied from a young age. My grandfather was also an alcoholic so I suspect there’s a history of mental health issues in my family. My fears are being a burden and not fulfilling my potential because of my issues and dying alone. With resilience, I have become proud of my independence, seeing the world and helping others to the best of my ability. As a kid, my thoughts challenged me and I never thought I’d see my 18th birthday. The weight of all things behind and ahead of me felt like they would consume me whole. I’d watch with astonishment as other people went about their lives with such calm and ease; I wondered why I found the simplest things so difficult. As time went on, I learned to sweep the thoughts under the rug and settled for being content as is, whilst being truly happy always seemed just beyond my reach. Although it is an overused cliche; time is a great healer. Overtime, I cleaned under that rug. I don’t think about the past that much anymore. The same things that would keep me awake at night, making my skin crawl, are a far distant memory. Although it is easier said than done, suffering through the worst of it and being patient with my issues was one of the best things I’ve ever done. I come from an area where far too many young people have killed themselves over the years. I wonder where they would be today if just one small event had steered them away from taking their own lives. I think about their families and about my own family; how would they feel if I had made the decision not to be here either. I think the suffering left behind by suicide far exceeds the short-term pain that you feel in the moment and although living your life for someone else is not a long-term solution for any of your problems; it’s definitely something that should be considered when you’re at your lowest. If you have some dust mites under the rug, please hear me when I say everyone has struggled with some type of mental health issue in some shape or form at some stage of their lives. Seeking help is not an admission of weakness: it’s one of the most courageous things you can do. — Martin he/him 23 (Anxiety & Depression)

Healing is a whole new kind of exhaustion. There’s no more patience for anything inauthentic. Being “normal” or palatable becomes a chore. Healing is a constant search for honesty.. even if it’s hurt like hell. Because living isn’t worth it if it isn’t honest or real or genuine. We’re not different from those choosing to live; we are just humans who are in the ripple effect.