It's been 2 years now since it happened and I'm still THAT girl. I'm still labeled by my actions. I'm still who I was.
When I was a sophomore in college, I had admitted my RA's that I was contemplating suicide. I told them my plan, I cried for hours in a room that wasn't my own. Telling people after people the same story I had told the person before. 3 hours of questioning, I was removed and admitted. A psychiatrist told me I was free to leave after evaluation and I waited two hours for a ride home.
I was told that there was nothing wrong with me. I was a human being who had feelings. Who cared, loved, cried, etc. So why did I feel like I wasn't okay? I was later diagnosed with major depression and anxiety. I wasbattling both of these since around the age of 12 by myself.
I felt like I had too. I felt like being broken meant you weren't worth the time. Those emotions weren't even half of what I had to return to. I was allowed back because I WAS PERFECTLY FINE. But the word had spread and I became the girl that was crazy, emotional, psycho, a liar. You name it, I seemed to be it. I got the glares, the whispers, the ignored answers. I thought returning mentally stable would be a new beginning for me would be great.
Returning was coming to terms with people realizing I was the girl that wanted to end her life. No one wanted to get to know me. No one wanted to know what my story was. Everyone had already decided who I was. When I met someone new, they already knew who I was and they wanted to know if "it was true." I was a mental disease no one wanted to touch.
I can't explain how long it took to ignore whole sports teams looking at me, eating alone, spending a lot of time alone, to become something that wasn't painful. As I continued my education, I was still the same girl. To this day, I have achieved great things, I fight for the stigma against mental illness, and I will continue.
I have to graduate and acknowledge that I wasn’t given the right help. I was taken advantage of, my college looked the other way. This will always be apart of me and although I grew from it and i survived, I was the only one hurt and punished.
I guess what I'm trying to get at is, I will always be THAT girl. I still have people argue that I never meant it. I still have people look at me. I still have people call me crazy or something to that effect. But the thing is, I'm not living my life for them. And you aren't living your life for them. What happened to you, you know how you felt, and no one can tell you how to feel. Having a mental illness doesn't make you incapable of being loved or treasured.
I admit, being THAT girl isn't what I planned, but I also planned on no longer living once too. Pain seems to last longer because it's unwanted and unsavored. Seeking help for mental health problems doesn't make you sick or mentally unstable. Sometimes we just need someone to listen, and no one else will. Don't stop yourself from getting help you need because you don't want to be labeled. My story isn't something I will ever be proud of, but it makes people feel less alone. That's why I continue to share.