So here it is. This is me. Uncut, imperfect, unashamed me. This is slightly difficult to write because I have never openly spoken to anyone about this subject, let alone writing something the entire world will have access to.
I used to struggle with depression. Typing that sentence literally makes me shake just because I never, ever want to go through that again.
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I am not really sure when it started, but I am guessing around the age of 12. Of course, every girl around that age starts to struggle with their image and who they really are. I just happened to have an extreme case of this.
It was not anyone's fault, it just kind of happened. I was not bullied by anyone accept myself. Every day I would look in the mirror from the age 12 to 16 and I would be disgusted with what I was looking at. Words I would describe myself as fat, ugly, gross, dumb and just about any negative adjective my mind could conjure up.
Over time, not only did I hate my body, I started to really just hate myself in general. Any time I did anything that was not perfect, I would beat myself up about it. I was so much more horrible to myself than anyone else was. It was so, so bad. Any time I made a bad grade, did something wrong or anything else along those lines, I would literally tell myself that I was unworthy of anything. I would tell myself that everyone hated me and that no one wanted to be around me. I would wish that I had never existed or that I was dead or that my parents would have chosen to get rid of me. I would say things to myself that were not true even though I really believed that they were.
You may wonder based on these statements, whether I was harming myself or not. The answer is: not physically. Did the thought cross my mind? Yes. Probably every day. Was I harming myself emotionally and mentally? Yes, and to an unhealthy extent. I think that I did it to get a reaction out of myself. I did it so that I would feel something rather than nothingness.
I tried boys as a solution. In the sixth grade, I "dated" four boys within a span of six weeks. I know that it was sixth grade and it wasn't like I was in a real relationship but that time of trying to give my heart away to someone was six weeks of my heart that I took away from my future husband. I realized very quickly that keeping up with 12-year-old boys and hiding secrets from my parents was not working, so instead I tried making everyone like me. I wanted to hang out with all of the "cool" kids because that is just what I thought I was supposed to do. I would say what the cool kids said, I wanted to have all the clothes that they had, and what I really strived for was the connection that they all had.
I was lonely. Yes, I had real friends, some of them that I am still friends with to this day. I took them for granted. I didn't feel like they really wanted me as a friend. I kept trying to fit in with the popular crowd. I even tried out to be on the basketball cheerleading squad. I made the squad, but it didn’t change anything. Did I act happy? Yes.
People that have known me for a long time are probably very shocked by this or maybe don't even believe me. I guess I was just good at hiding it. I'm not saying that every second of my day was me loathing myself, but it wasn't just a part-time thing. I would put on a happy face, I would laugh, I would make jokes and I would even enjoy myself. This wasn't neccessarily an act for anyone else but mostly for me, telling myself that I was fine and that I didn't need help. Oh, how I wish that I would have just talked to someone. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything; maybe it would have radically changed my life.
As I have shared before, I love people. I love being around people even if I don't actually enjoy the person them self. I love to please people. I think that this trait of mine partially made things worse. I didn't want to make anyone upset ever so when I did, I took it out on myself and made things worse.
Gosh, it was hard. There were countless nights of crying myself to sleep. There were countless times if me sitting in the bathtub wishing I had the courage to drown myself. There were countless times I stood in the kitchen wanting to take a knife and slit my wrists. I know that this is probably really hard for some of you to read or even imagine. Trust me, I know because it was me living it.
If it makes you feel any better, I am a completely different person today. I have found a passion that helps me on bad days. I have fallen in love with a savior who provides me with all the love I need and who helps me get up out of bed in the morning when I simply cannot do it on my own. I have a family that loves me, always has loved me and that always will love me. I have fantastic friends who love me through my awkwardness and uniqueness. I have a wonderful life that I am so thankful to be living. I love myself for who I am. I am beautiful, kind of crazy, funny, flawed and occasionally annoying. It doesn't matter, I love myself so much now.
I would NOT be here without Jesus Christ. Hands down, no questions asked. He is the love of my life and I really couldn't do it without God's help. Life is still so hard and it always will be but I know that I can make it because of Him.
Some might say that I'm seeking attention or that I just want people to feel bad for me. This is NOT a pity party. This is a story of a difficult time in my life that I do not want to hide because I know that my story can help others. If you are suicidal or have depression, please talk to someone. It can change your entire life in a heartbeat and I wish that I would have. You are so, so, so loved! You are wanted! The world would not be a better place without you.
“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all.” Psalm 34:18-19
