Okay, its a big deal, but its been all over the news and social media. What I don't have is a solution, or a list of facts that impersonalize the issue. There are plenty of those already out there. What I thought I'd share... is my unique, personal story surrounding suicide, depression, self injury, and anxiety.
(Let me preface this by saying I have never really gone to a professional. I went to a lady at my church for two years or so, but I can't say I was always completely honest. So I may not say everything "correctly" but hey, its my story, with my interpretation.. and it's my first time coming public with this part of my story.)
There were a few times I contemplated suicide. I had it all planned out. How to make it look like an accident so that no one knew what was really wrong, or how easy it could really be to commit the act. How many different ways it was possible, some more peaceful or painless than others. Looking back, I know I was never serious. In the moment, I would have claimed I was. In fact, I did claim I was, evidenced by the late night phone calls to my best friend. He did what I never had someone else do: he talked to me about suicide. You see, there's a myth that talking about suicide will cause the person to commit the act. The opposite is actually true. Talking about it does not cause someone to become suicidal, but rather, could actually save their life.
With how the media is, death doesn't seem permanent. We watch crime shows where someone dies every episode, and everything still continues fine. It doesn't show the agonizing pain a family goes through when a daughter dies. We don't see the long term effects on a school that has lost a classmate. Death is made unreal. We may read the statistics, such as: globally, there is one suicide every 40 seconds. What we don't think about is how someone's daughter is dying every 40 seconds. A sister, a brother, a mother... dying, every 40 seconds. How many have died, just in the time it took to read to here?
My best friend.. He made it personal again. Permanent. I realized that I couldn't end my life... because it'd be ending my life. I would never become (at that time) the teacher I strived to be. All my hard work at school would be for nothing. I would never have children, to be able to experience those joys and pains. This isn't to say my best friend saved me.. although he had a large part in it. There were a lot of influences that helped me, first and foremost my savior and faith. I do believe that God puts people into our lives that will influence us to do His will... and so he sent my best friend to me. I remembered how Christ painfully died for me on the cross, so that I might glorify Him, yet I was about to throw all of that away because of my own selfish desire to be rid of my slight pain. A "silly" reason why I didn't decide to kill myself some nights? I already had promised someone I'd babysit for them the next week, I had already committed to a camp counseling, or I had a band competition or play that I was instrumental in. I didn't want to let those around me down because I didn't do what I said I would. When my faith in Christ was shaken, my commitments held me through as my faith grew strong again.
I understand if you're slightly confused until now. Or having the condescending thoughts of how I was just being a child, a hormonal teenager. Well, I was. Because I was a teenager. But it wasn't like I woke up one day, wanting to die. For me, it was years of struggling with depression, anxiety, and cutting that slowly wore me down to the point that I almost ended my life.
More than 350 million people suffer from depression worldwide, and 9.7 percent of Americans have a mood disorder, such as depression. That's 1 in 10 people. In the average classroom, that's two or three students. For seven years, I was one of those students. I was a part of "the statistic". There are a few reasons why someone could be depressed. For some, it's a devastating life change. A loss of a job, or a family member dying. For others, it could be moving or entering a new school. Personally, I had a chemical imbalance that made me more susceptible to depression. I first remember being depressed when I was on a month long mission trip. I was twelve. There were 15 preteens between ten and twelve, I was one of the oldest. Then there were two female leaders. There just wasn't enough love and attention to go around, and my time was spent being put in charge of some of the groups. I was worn down, and not being emotionally or physically recharged. I was still young in my faith, that I did not seek my substance in Him. I'm not saying a mission trip caused my depression. I'm really saying that a high stress situation started me on a path towards depression.
As I said, this continued for years. I still don't call myself recovered because I find it hard to be satisfied and happy most moments of the day, but I no longer wallow in the sadness or get to the point of suicide. I have an action plan. Basically, its turn on my music and open up my Bible. But this healthy phase only began about a year ago, and there were a few hard ones in between.
At some point in 8th grade, I started having anxiety and started cutting. I honestly don't remember which started first. I remember cutting because I wanted to be in control of some of the pain I was feeling inside from the depression. It felt good, and calming. I would get anxious because I wanted, I needed, to be perfect and normal. I question everything I do because I am a socially awkward person, that most new social situations get me extremely worked up. Part of my anxiety was because I had depression. I would get so mad at myself for having this problem. That I couldn't get rid of it. I felt completely dumb and stupid, that this sadness was consuming me. The anxiety was also a symptom of the chemical imbalance I had (we didn't know this at the time). I was chained down by responsibilities and expectations that I couldn't live up to. So I would freak out. I'd shake and cry. For a long time, I thought that the only thing that would calm me down was cutting. And that did "work" for a little bit. I would calm down, as I was focused on something else. Only a few people knew I struggled with this addiction. Even though 14-24 percent of youth and young adults have self-injured at least once, its rare to see each other's scars. Its not really talked about. There were a few girls who I heard cut in high school... and everyone would just accuse them of seeking attention. That it wasn't any big deal, and how they were just being pathetic. While I knew differently, having personally been through it, I wasn't going to admit that it was an issue I struggled with. I used cutting as my coping mechanism for anxiety. Then the cutting would get me more depressed, which would slowly lead to feeling anxious, which would be more cutting. See the vicious circle I was caught in?
The anxiety really started to take a toll during my freshman year, especially during band. I would get completely worked up after the performances, would beat myself up and dwell over little mistakes I made, that my anxiety attacks were slowly affecting my ability to perform. I honestly don't remember a lot from this, because during anxiety attacks I wouldn't remember anything. With about 20 percent of Americans also having an anxiety disorder, it wasn't surprising that my senior buddy struggled with it too. To know that someone else understood was a comfort in itself. This started a long three year process to get to where I am now.
Sophomore year or so, I started taking medication for my anxiety and depression, and that helped out a ton. I still had to learn how to deal with it, but with the medication righting the chemical imbalance, it was so much easier.
I overcame cutting. I would not allow myself to do it. I had to get rid of this habit before I could learn to cope with the others.
So, I found different ways to calm myself from anxiety attacks, including running, mace, sleeping, reading, and cuddling with a female friend. A lot of times, a hug from a friend that I knew could protect me would immediately calm me. During my attacks.. I was scared. I would feel unprotected, and worried that I was going to get hurt. Given, this was a completely irrational fear... but a feeling of safety, the confines of a hug, would calm me so quickly.
I learned to avoid certain triggers. Caffeine, for instance, speeds up my system and makes it more likely for me to go into attack. Other triggers I knew I had were crowds, new situations, and low sleep, so going into circumstances prepared helped keep me calm.
I realized I didn't have to be "perfect" all the time.. that each person is unique, so if I need to step away and take a breathe, then that's okay. I believe a large part of my worries were not living up to the expectations of those around me. That I had to act a certain way, because I was a pastor's daughter, my grades, my last name, or the general "I have to be the best, most behaved person in the room or I'm not being successful" standard I put on myself.
I won't ever be fully healed from depression and anxiety. If God wished it, He could right the chemical imbalance I have. Instead I have further glorified Him because I succeeded despite the disorders.
I was drum major of my marching band for two years. For those two years, I had not a single band related anxiety attack. That isn't to say I never had to step away... I did, a few times, but that was more to calm my frustrations than it was to calm anxiety. If I had never gotten comfortable taking a break because of anxiety, though, I would have said a lot of words in anger that were better left unsaid.
During my time as a camp counselor, I was able to help others in their depression, anxiety, and self harm. When you are in the thick of it... you don't see the way out. Its hard to imagine a life where you won't always be a cutter, where you could learn to live with or even completely recover from your depression. For campers and my peers to be able to see that its possible made my whole rocky road worth it, if it'll help even one of those girls find recovery. A few were able to open up to me.. and I truly realized how much I wished I had opened up to my counselors. How I wish a counselor would have opened up to me (or maybe they did, and I just don't remember). If I had had the help I needed when I was a freshman or sophomore.. I can only imagine what pain I could have been spared.
Then, my recovery entered the post high school real world experience.
Recently, I entered the new situation of an overseas mission trip to Romania. There were days I struggled with depression. While this was a trip with people who I have known for years, I did see a different side of most of them than I had before. I learned so much about myself and what other steps I need to take to work at dealing with my depression during a similar situation, as well as learned how to handle my depression and emotions on my own, a step I was just starting to take. Before this trip, I didn't want to handle my emotions by myself. I was scared that I would simply fall back into my depression and anxiety. On the trip, it was only my best friend who knew these struggles. So, when I would need help with my depression, I would go to him. Rightfully, and thankfully, he forced me to handle my emotions on my own, and to stop having a crutch. At the time, I was so upset and mad at him. How could he abandon me, right? Well, as usual, he was right. Now, he'd been telling me to be independent before this trip, but in the states, I would simply talk to someone else then. In Romania, I only had him. So I had to be independent. I hated him for it. But I loved him for his tough love, too, because I see the freedom I can have in my self confidence and independence. Instead of turning to another friend, I was forced to go to God and His word for my comfort. You see, it was never an individual thing. I would never be able to overcome my issues on my own. But instead of seeking God, I had been seeking the encouragement of my friends, who are humans that make mistakes and won't always be there. God is my constant, and in the time during the trip and since, I have turned to His word whenever I feel anxious or depressed. It has calmed my spirit as I remain (somewhat) constant in my daily devotions, which occur no matter how I feel. My best friend is still there for me, but in a different way since the needy, annoying girl is gone.
And now? Despite my depression and anxiety, that is well handled and dealt with, I am embarking on a completely new journey. My YWAM adventure in Madison will have me in a new situation where I know one person, have no idea really what's going on, and barely have an idea on what to expect. I'm not even completely funded to go, so I could end up utterly broke in a few weeks. While all this should have me completely freaking out, scared, hiding-in-my-closet anxious.. I'm happy, and looking forward to God's plan for me. A fresh start, another chance at making myself be me, and not what others expect me to be.
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Some quick prayer requests:
-I will be able to find health insurance that I can afford.
-I will remain content in this transition period, as I work and wait for YWAM to begin.
Funding:
YWAM is still in need of $1945. I have part of that pledged, so I am still in need of about $1700 for tuition.
No update yet as to outreach funding.
God Bless!!!
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