My Story

My story is one that I often dont share, however, for the sake of this blog I am going to tell it, all of it. I guess my story started nineteen years nine months ten days and a hand full of hours ago, but lets just fast forward to about four years ago. The reason we are starting there is because thats about how long its been since I remember being happy. I started feeling depressed about junior year of high school, I cant really say there was some specific reason that I felt that way, I just know its how I felt.

 I made it to senior year and couldnt take it any longer, I started coping by using self harm as an out. For the next two years I used self harm as a place to hide, something that was mine and i could control, I ran to it for nearly everything. Second semester of my first year of college, with the help of a good friend, I filled my parents in on everything that was going on. Telling them was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I felt so much shame and like a complete disappointment.

I have now discovered that telling my parents was the begining of healing. I came home for Spring break freshman year and my parents got me straight to the doctor, I mean literally I got off the plane and went straight to my doctor. I was put on an anti depressant called Zoloft. In a weeks time I was off to school again in hopes of this new medicine working.

 At this time it had been nine months since I had self harmed, however the medicine made me feel worse and I started up again. The last couple months, while everyone was having the time of their lives, I was fighting my own battle. As soon as school got out and I got home for summer I started therapy with Beth and started working with a psychiatrist named Marty.

As Marty started messing with my meds to see which combination would work I still got worse, I was on two different anti depressants and all I wanted to do was die. The fact that I wanted to kill myself didnt go over well, obviously, and I ended up going to a Psychiatric hospital for about three weeks. While there they diagnosed me with Bipolar disorder. This was a whole new ball game, complete different meds to work with, but I didnt feel well enough to wait fo anything to kick in, I just wanted to be "better".

As of now I am in a healthier place. I would not say I was healed or am completely healthy, but Im on my way. It is a tough battle, but I refuse to let myself give up, refuse to let the depression and bipolar and self harm and anything else beat me. With the help of a bunch of friends and family I will get through this.