The first week of October is nationally recognized as Mental Health Awareness Week. Mental health is such a taboo topic and awareness is beyond necessary; we have to talk about it because mental health issues are so prevalent in our society, especially in today's younger generations. So I want to venture past Mental Health Awareness week and keep the conversation going, we need to be aware always. My story is a lot less tragic or eventful than others, but hopefully sharing it will help someone else who has been where I have.
I remember talking about suicide when I was about 7 years old. I didn't really understand what I was saying, I just said it. "I'm going to be the first 7-year-old to commit suicide" as I sat on my grandma's couch with a scarf wrapped around my neck, most likely the results of not getting my way. I remember my family's reaction, I remember how angry my dad was at me for saying it. I knew what it meant to kill yourself, but I didn't know how it actually felt to want to.
Fast toward 5 years- I'm 12, and I have 12-year-old problems. I had definitely seen more things than other kids my age, but life was not unbearable whatsoever. That was until my dad sat us down in that room and said, "it was mommy's turn to go to heaven". My world came crashing down and I couldn't breathe. That feeling lasted a lot longer than I thought it would. I didn't want to live without my mother, but I always remembered the reaction caused by my 7-year-old self's tantrum- so I hid the feelings. Just shy of 13, I knew what it felt like to want to kill myself.
I was never the same person after that, every time I reached a certain level of sadness or anger, the thought came to me. I knew it wasn't normal, but we couldn't talk about it. I didn't want to get in trouble, we just couldn't talk about it. I bottled up my feelings and I wasn't happy. As the years passed, the feelings started to become more and more prevalent. By the time I was 14, I was searching desperately for something to fix me. I needed to feel better and I didn't care how I had to do it. I found solace through self-harm, I coped with a razor. I didn't necessarily want to kill myself, I just wanted to control my feelings and know that maybe, if I really did want to do it, I could.
When my family found out, I reverted back to 7 year old me; my dad was angry, he didn't understand. It was too hard to talk about because I knew the reactions I would get. I was embarrassed, I was ashamed, I felt like I couldn't talk through it. I shut down when I needed to speak up the most. The next few years were full of urges and relapses and new unhealthy coping mechanisms. I hid so much from the people who cared about me, they all wanted to see me do better and I just wanted to escape. I thought I would find myself through substance abuse and self-harm, but I just became a person I hated and it felt like a never ending cycle.
I wish I could say this was all in the past, and finish this story with a happy ending, but that's not how it goes. The urges never fade, they just become easier to fight. I found ways to fight the urges that I never thought of before. I found solace in writing, and in God, and in my friends and family. I still have to fight the temptation to self-harm, but it gets easier. I can't say it's even been a year since the last time I've given into an urge, not even six months. But I am getting there, and I'm not ashamed of my progress. It seems little, but to me it's huge. I am not embarrassed by where I have been, nobody should feel embarrassed when going through something like this, ask for help. Of course, it's a touchy subject, people don't like talking about reality- but we have to, so another 14-year girl doesn't pick up that razor.
"I found ways to fight the urges that I never thought of before."
There are so many crisis hotlines- they have one's you can call, text, or chat with. Don't hesitate to use one, because they actually help.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255
Crisis Text line: Text “GO” to 741741
Crisischat.org
