Author: shonna08

You know some people will never understand what it feels like to be thrown away, discarded by your own family, for reasons you will never understand, because they blame you for things in the past that were never your fault…things that I wish to this day could have been different….but when you are kid there’s not much you could say or do to change the outcome of things that you have watched happen for years while you grew up……..but then years later tried like hell to change because you didn’t want to be the victim of parental alienation, or a child that came from a broken home.

Years later, the things you always wanted to say, you never had the courage to say, or got to say, and you wanted answers. You needed to understand why. Years later, you feel like you’re reaching out for what you wish you were: loved, accepted, cared for. Years later, you find yourself trapped in emotions because you feel guilty about lacking what you had as a child. You blame yourself because you feel responsible….although you weren’t. You want to make right the wrong they did and rebuild the family you wish you could and should have had. You want that picture-perfect family concept, but you know it was never there. You want to have the two people in your life who should matter the most, because without them you don’t feel whole.

You swallow your pride, accepting what is will never be different. You try to smile, but the pain will always be there. You tell yourself it’s a bad dream, but trying to force change to happen only hurts you more. You stand up, you’re strong….you know you tried, and you say enough is enough, no more pain. You make yourself a priority and you worry about yourself because that’s what matters. Only time can heal wounds….or does it? Only you know the truth deep inside you. Listen to your heart. Tell yourself it will be okay. You will make it in life. It’s your life and story; only you can determine the outcome.

I just wish it didn’t hurt as bad, and I wish my family knew how much it pains me that they do not include me, and show no effort to make things better, but instead tell me I need to show them that I care. Things will be the same, and my family will do what they do. Ultimately, it is up to them to put in the effort. If they don’t, then it’s no longer me who should be hurt because they are the ones who have to live with their decisions. When you make it personal by sending me messages, how am I not supposed to take it personally? I only wish they knew that it hurts that how I feel gets completely ignored when I speak up and try to say something. I just got to a point where I guess I won’t because it clearly doesn’t matter. I’m tired of being the only one to make any effort.

I am tired of being the only one trying and the only one who gets hurt. I just wish they would understand what it means to go through life not knowing their support but it just means that I guess I don’t need them and that i can be proud of myself, because clearly I’m not a priority for them, and that’s not going to change, so that’s their loss. It’s time for me to start focusing on myself, my happiness, my dreams, and my goals. So my counselor gave me an assignment to try to process through some of my trauma to better understand it and forgive myself. So here goes, I will give this a try.

Dear self,

You knew life behind closed doors was anything but the way it should have been, and although you wish you could turn back the hands of time, fix things or erase the past, it is just impossible. I can’t change the memories I want to have been positive and memorable, but I can change how I react to those memories moving forward. I was a child who experienced what no child ever should have and it changed my world in a way that caused turmoil, heartache, and grief. Growing up, you knew the fighting, arguing, yelling, abuse, and violence were not healthy and you knew in time how it would end. Although no family wants to be shattered by divorce, it was a means of closing the chapters of negative moments in time that made me afraid of my home. It was for the better so we could move forward in separate directions.

The family relationship was not a safe or healthy bond and needed to change. Looking back on some of those memories, you knew things were not your fault, and you know that it was not you who made your dad choose alcohol over his family. You didn’t put the bottle to his mouth and tell him to drink. He made that decision. Young teenagers in the world, at the time, didn’t make the best decisions, and I’m sure we processed things very differently and didn’t understand the impacts of our reality. We made sense of how things were as we knew them, according to how our minds understood them. So in some ways, I can’t fault my sister for how she processed and grieved through her feelings in her time. After all this time, my sister could not give me what I needed and i need to realize that her and I need our space and we have different way of dealing with things and we need to live our lives independently.

We are probably handling our trauma differently from each other. The healing is different for both of us; it will take time for us to process everything. Yes, I wish my bond with my sister could have been better, and I wish we had a friendship or relationship. Still, honestly I think that being able to focus on myself and my future apart from her without having the pressure of living up to the expectations I once felt pressured to, does make it easier for me to follow my dreams and goals. I only wish my sister knew how much I needed her growing up, and I wish that as sisters, our bond could have been stronger. I wish she knew how much I could have looked up to her. I wish she would understand that I had to close those chapters of negativity, abuse, resentment, abandonment, betrayal, and memories of toxicity to begin the healing process.

I didn’t want my memories to eat me alive and leave me carrying the weight of the burdens I have felt all these years. I needed to be able to be from my emotional pain so that I could let myself forward ready in time when I was ready. I think that now the toxicity doesn’t have to rule my life or define me, I can move forward and focus on my future successes and the great things ahead of me that mean so much to me. With graduating college on the horizon soon, I can focus on my dream and purpose of making a difference in the lives of others so that they make mental health a priority and know that they have access to resources in their communities.

I also need to focus on my relationship with my husband, so that one day we can get married and continue our lives together, by uniting our two hearts as one. I want our relationship built in solidarity, trust, love, respect, and keeping each other’s interests in mind. I want us to have everything I could not have had as a child and for it to be about making our love stronger and foremost alive so that we can work as a couple to build our memories together, and let our lives be a shining example of making it through trauma and adversity. You deserve this, we deserve this and you’re destined for great things, now all you have to do is continue the journey to where you want to be, realizing how far you have made it. It is time to achieve everything you have ever dreamed of. Be proud of who you are, what you have accomplished, and what you want to accomplish. The opportunity is yours to take, so make the best of it.

It’s entirely normal to experience a flurry of emotions when a loved one is diagnosed with a serious mental illness. Guilt, shame, disbelief, fear, anger and grief are common reactions. Acceptance can take time for the diagnosed individual, you, and other family members and friends. That acceptance happens at a different pace for everyone. Be patient with yourself and others. One of the most important things you can do to support a family member with serious mental illness is to educate yourself.

The more you learn about what to expect, the easier it will be to provide support and assistance. I know what it’s like, as someone who has been hospitalized for mental health, and having a family member currently in treatment. Please don’t be afraid to ask for help for yourself or a loved one. You aren’t alone. Mental health affects not only the person, but those that surround them. Anyone can experience mental health problems. Friends and family can make all the difference in a person’s recovery process. When someone you love has been diagnosed with a mental illness, you feel a mixture of emotions.

Concern, compassion, disbelief, anger, relief, anxiety, grief, love, guilt…any and all these emotions are understandable and normal. You are not to blame for a loved one’s mental illness. Mental illnesses are caused by many different factors that work together, such as genetics, biology, environment, and life experiences. Loved ones can play a big part in helping a person recover, work towards their goals, and stay well. Care and emotional support go a long way in recovery and well-being. So can practical help, like managing doctor’s appointments and other daily tasks. You can also play a part in helping a loved one maintain well-being. You and other close supporters may be the first to notice changes in a loved one’s mood, behavior, self-care, or other area that shows their mental health may be worsening.

This means you can help your loved one find the right help early. You can also help them see hope at a time when they feel it the least. When a loved one experiences a mental illness, their care and support can take a lot of time and energy. But your own needs are just as important, too. When a loved one has a psychiatric disorder, it’s a challenge for the whole family: parents, siblings, friends, and relatives. The willingness to come together as a unit, accept the diagnosis, look for help, go beyond criticism, blame, and judgement will not guarantee recovery, but it makes it far more likely.

Denial and disapproval will only worsen the situation. Family support (and by family, I mean a biological family or a chosen one) is vital to recovery. The support helps minimize the indignities and damage mental illness can inflict on an individual that would otherwise take place had the support not been there in the first place. It also can save a loved one’s life. Supportive friends can play an essential role in the mental health recovery process.

All too often, people respond negatively or dismissively when someone discloses that he/she has a mental health disorder. It is important to remember that mental health disorders are just as real as physical illnesses and that a person cannot just “snap out of it. Someone you know will have a mental health problem right now – a family member, your friend, your workmate. He or she just might not know how to tell you. Being open to mental health can break down any stigma surrounding it. You don’t have to be an expert to talk and listen; often, the little things make a big difference. Which means listening, and making their voice feel heard and that they are not alone.

Many people today view individuals with disabilities as different people based upon their appearances and behaviors. To me and other individuals with and without disabilities, these kinds of viewpoints are very derogatory. I say this myself because people have doubted me and my own abilities. The struggles we face in life are challenging, but we do not see ourselves being limited by our disabilities. Instead, we have different skills that play essential roles within our communities and work environments. Though people doubt our abilities, we often prove them wrong about our capabilities. I don’t know why people make such a big deal out of people with disabilities. The problem lies in how people think about disability.

First, most of us think of disability rather narrowly, for instance, when someone is missing a limb, paralyzed and in a wheelchair, or blind. Any apparent condition limits people from doing things that so-called normal people can do. We also have a tendency to idolize people with disabilities, to see them as courageous and as inspirations for all of us. We marvel at how they overcome their disabilities to compete in marathons, get college degrees, or establish successful careers. We think they are somehow unique, and we want to learn how they cope with their difficult lives in the hope that we can use those lessons to overcome the comparatively minor challenges we face in our own lives.

But the people I know with disabilities don’t think of themselves as different or special. Remember that, at some point in their lives (unless they were born physically challenged), they weren’t different or special, they were just normal, just like the rest of us. They don’t possess special qualities, for example, resilience or a positive attitude, that we lack. Their circumstances changed, namely, the physical challenges that changed their life. The attributes that emerged that enabled them to overcome their disabilities weren’t unique to them. Instead, their reactions that we consider superhuman are, in fact, decidedly human and reside in all of us.

Though we may think we would crawl into a ball and surrender when faced with similar challenges, most would probably react with the same courage and determination. That is the real lesson that so-called normal people can learn from those who are disabled. So, next time you meet a person with disabilities, try two things with them. First, rather than paying attention to their disabilities, find out their abilities and how they define themselves.

Second, don’t treat them as if they are disabled. Instead, treat them as if they are normal. You know why? Because they are far more normal than you think. And, more importantly, they want to be viewed and treated based not on their disability, that is, one small aspect of who they are (however noticeable and intrusive the disability may be), but rather on all of their abilities and the totality of who they are. People with mental or physical conditions are differently abled because they possess unique abilities and perspectives. Everybody has ability and everybody matters, it’s all about acknowledging it. ‘Differently abled’ doesn’t hide the fact that your loved one has been diagnosed with a condition, but continues to empower them despite it.

Oftentimes, differently abled people see what we can’t, hear what we can’t and think what we can’t. This makes their ability different – not inferior, not superior – just different. The term differently abled recognises talent and value in everybody and treats them equally. While mental conditions like autism can affect certain everyday functions, it need not stop them from enjoying a fulfilling, enriched and loved life. Many different people are known to flourish and rejoice in life with the right opportunity, support, and love.

People with disabilities and advocates in the disability rights movement, however, assert that all individuals, regardless of their disability status, have individual rights that cannot be ignored. Decisions like those made in this case are the most personal of personal rights, not family rights. Every person has the right to bodily integrity, clearly recognized in our legal tradition, through the constitutional rights of liberty and privacy and the common law right to be left alone unless the individual chooses to have their body disturbed in some way. Individuals with disabilities, no matter the nature or severity of their disability, are no different.

The Constitution and antidiscrimination laws make it clear, all people, including people with disabilities, are entitled to equal treatment under the law. The word “disability” is something that is kind of scary to talk about. Commonly, other words that have become obsolete and insensitive are used in their place. Mental retardation, special needs, special education, handicapped and different words have become something that sets the already marginalized individuals with disabilities further away from society because it makes them undesirable. A person with a disability does not want to hear that they are different or looked at like they are strange, but that is what they experience every day of their lives. It ultimately comes down to “normal” people having limited interaction with disabled people. People with disabilities are people first. If you find yourself caught off guard when you run into someone with a disability, I suggest you ask yourself, “How would I want to be treated?” People like myself, whether physical or mental, have an attitude of pity that causes the bar to be lowered for performance, and this cannot and will never be helpful. This bar is unfortunately reduced for people with disabilities throughout their lives; this must stop. What is “normal?” We all have different abilities, talents, interests, and personalities. You name it!

. Is that why we are so afraid of disability? Because we don’t really know what disability is like unless it is part of our lives? Is that why we are so afraid of disability? Because we don’t want to ask questions that could offend people? Is that why it is easier to stay away? To look away? To ignore? To recognize that the value of life is not found in who we are not, it is found in who we already are. There is full acceptance. There is unending joy. There is unconditional love, no strings attached, no expectations, just love. Let’s put away the fear that surrounds disability. Fear makes us turn away, rather than allowing us to embrace. Let’s embrace the person. Because really, why are we so afraid of disability?” We are fearful of disability because we don’t really know what it is unless it is a part of our lives. To engage with people with disabilities, one has to start somewhere. Persons with disabilities help us realize what really matters in life. They teach us to participate in life and not simply watch it go by.

We must recognize that the value of life is found in who we are and not in whom we are NOT. Sooner or later it has to be accepted that disability is a part of life. Maybe not mine, not yours, but someone’s. Don’t let others grow up carrying the same stigmas and stereotypes passed on to us. Make a difference by acknowledging that kids and adults with disabilities are people first, with gifts, talents, and abilities. People with disabilities are made up of so much more. If you change yourself, you will change your world. If you change how you think, you will change how you feel and your actions. And so the world around you will change.

I hold the right to not divulge certain details of my story or how I feel right away, and my therapist should respect that. Putting myself in a vulnerable position, I expect to receive care and compassion rather than judgment. Emotions keep us from experiencing future harm. When you are vulnerable to hurt, that means being prepared to not expect an apology or acknowledgment from the person we are angry with that has the problem.

Growing up, all I wanted was love, acceptance, and validation, but the harm has already been done because my dad would never know the void in my heart. Growing up, I was always told it’s impossible to miss something that you have never had, but then if that is true, then why did the demons of pain, guilt, loneliness, anger, and resentment show up when my dad left our family after my parents got divorced? The extreme useless feelings I felt and suppressing my feelings and emotions for so many years made me feel like I was nothing more than discarded trash and that how I felt didn’t matter to my father.

Although I had many questions I knew I would never get answers to, I also knew my father would never admit to having a problem with alcohol. Resenting my father only did more harm to myself because he would not understand my heartache or see the tears I cried. I had to make myself understand who my father was hurting by drinking, and it was my family. I had to evaluate what I wanted in my life, and that I had to make a hard decision to no longer allow his toxicity in my life.

For so long, I stayed in a shadow in the background, not letting myself be real and learned to bury my feelings and emotions. It is so hard learning to love someone who is beyond the point of help, and forcing everyone around him to live on edge, as if he were a grenade that would go off at any moment. Forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting the circumstances, it’s a choice for my well-being.

Being able to let go of the anger, fear, frustration, hurt, and shame that centered my beliefs and my reality. I got tired of walking on eggshells, waiting for violence to erupt in the home. I had to decide to no longer let alcohol have a priority over my safety and well-being. Taking action meant leaving the place that should have been home and being a place of safety, to find somewhere that could help me escape the fear I lived with every time I was at home. I wasn’t safe and that saddened me. I had to figure out how to change my life for the better.

The hardest part of watching someone you love go through pain is that you’re reminded of exactly how helpless love can make you feel. Love takes away your logic, composure, power, and rationality. Everything that makes you feel secure and certain and in control is lost. You’re just left with feelings. Pain and worry and deep cuts and concern and fear and constant powerlessness. It’s difficult when someone you love is in pain. But it’s reality. We all suffer. We all go through things and we all experience pain. It’s what makes us human.

But it also allows us to form such strong connections with other humans. It’s hard to accept the powerlessness that love brings us. It’s hard to accept the hurt, helplessness, and endless worry. It’s hard to watch someone you love suffer. But at the end of the day, it’s a reminder – a very strong reminder – that what you feel is deep and honest and real. What you feel is vulnerability and pain. We all suffer at some point. What I am able to confidently say is that when you experience hardship and pain with someone, the bond you create is that much more special. As hard as it was for my loved ones to feel helplessness and sadness during my most painful time, it brought me exceptionally closer to all who supported me, stood by me, and never gave up–even when it seemed like I would never get better.

Living with chronic pain, health issues, and mental health problems, it’s so hard to hear and see my loved ones fighting to help me get better, and in the midst of them doing everything they can, it seems like I battle much harder to accept and understand why they feel I’m at my worst…and after what seems to be so much arguing, emotions running high, and times of resentment, I’ve been able to step back and say maybe I do need help maybe I need to do what I can to save the one thing that means the most to me, my relationship with them.

Yes, it’s hard to swallow my pride and say that, but getting help has been the light at the end of the tunnel for me….being on meds has helped me to find that even balance and has allowed for at least some form of feeling normal. I guess what I had to realize was that yes, I was hurting, but I was hurting them worse by not caring that I was hurting them because I couldn’t see how bad I was.

I finally had to make the decision that maybe I can’t do for myself what I once was able to, and that’s okay, but by letting them step up and step in to make decisions in my best interest for me was the best thing I could have done….because while I still have a long way to go I’m on the road to recovery. Taking things one day at a time, I hope that my connection and bond with them will flourish and that they will be the force that gives me a reason every day not to give up. I find strength in them to keep going.

To the people who have come and gone, to the people I have cut out of my life, sorry but not sorry. You made it personal when you showed me you did not have my best interest at heart. Your toxicity was ended, and no, I do not regret it. To the people who have entered my life, to the people that I am slowly learning to let in my inner circle, please understand I am doing it a little at a time and that I’m trying to learn to trust again. I am trying to find and build my support system, something I never really have had in life. It is something I want to have because I want to learn to let myself be vulnerable while being accepted or wanting to feel accepted, welcomed, not judged, respected, and shown a personal level of understanding without placing any conditions on my willingness to test the waters and let you in my life. I’m trying to learn who will and who will not hurt me. I’ve been through so much in my life, and by letting you in, I’m giving you a glimpse of my life from behind the emotional scars, hurt, and personality disguise that I have used to protect myself. In many ways, I am learning to live again and find a newfound personal freedom from beyond the weight of the chains and burdens I have carried all these years.

Here’s a letter that I wrote to my father…that I want to share with you all. Dear Jim, It’s taken me a long time to write this letter. I’ve been putting it off for years, to be honest, I suppose I was waiting for you to get in touch with me. I’m writing because I have questions. I have complaints. People like to say you can’t miss something you’ve never had, but that’s a lie. I’ve never had you in my life like you should have been all these years. What am I to you, anyway?

Am I a mistake that want to deny? You can be honest, I’m strong enough to hear the truth. How could you abandon me? I needed you to be there, even though it wasn’t always. The day I said goodbye, the demons showed up. The pain, guilt, loneliness, anger, resentment…. My entire life, I craved for validation, someone to love me without condition, and someone to call me beautiful with no strings attached. Someone to appreciate me, the woman I am.

As I get older, I realize resenting you does me more harm. You can’t feel my wrath. You don’t see the tears I cried every night. You cannot begin to feel the void in my heart. I feel like I’m not enough for you to change. I wasn’t good enough for you to want to be there for me, to be in my life. I have always hoped that one day you would come into my life and become the daddy I had always wished for. One who would protect me from the world and make me feel completely safe, because I knew daddy would be there.

Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, although I am greatly pained and feel mortally wounded, I will grow stronger and finally make something out of myself without your acceptance or pride. I’m done meeting an impossible standard. I don’t hate you. I do hold you responsible for your actions. THere is too much that has been done, and I would be lying if i said i could forgive, and forget. Because you are my father, my only dad, I will always love you. Although I have many questions, I know they will never be answered. I know you will never admit your fault because you fail to believe that it is a problem.

You fail to think your drinking has made me the way that I am. And for that, I will never forgive you. The extreme useless feelings I possess are because of you. I suppress my feelings from the rejection and absence of caring that you showed me at such a young age. Because of you, I am writing this letter to tell you that you have not only hurt me, but also changed me. Growing up, the only thing I wanted to do in the world was make you happy. Your heart was never with your family. Words cannot express the deep sorrow, loss, anger, frustration, and regret, because alcohol abuse came first in your life, and we came last. You will never understand or take responsibility for the giant hole in my heart that can’t be patched. I’ve found the courage inside of me to forgive you. Of course, I will never fully forgive you or forget what you’ve done. I refuse to let you get to me anymore, so I’ve forgiven you enough for the sake of my own sanity.

You have taught me who i am and how far i can be pushed, although it was a lesson i would have rather avoided. All I’ve ever done was try to love you and all you’ve ever done is reject me over and over. I’m telling you that although I love you, I hate you and there is only one thing you can do to change that. I need to feel the love of a father. Experience the adoration that I have never had. I wish I only knew what it was like because it seems so good. Love, your daughter, Jessica Faith from birth to adult: a personal reflection What would I say? Like many probably have been, I have always grown up being the black sheep in the family and still am today.

My dad has always been an alcoholic and has denied me since the day I was born. He’s never been in my life growing up, and we still don’t speak to him to this day. Twenty-six years later, that was my decision. The times I saw him, he was never sober. I tried to get him involved in the things that mattered to me, but he never made the effort to be there for those things. I finally told my father off at my high school graduation after he showed up intoxicated. I have nothing to say to a man who has always been a deadbeat and still is. What would say if i had the courage? I would say this: Remember those years you stood in the way of my happiness growing up, remember those times where you never were a father figure, remember when I needed you the most and you were never there? I wasn’t trying to be a hateful daughter, but you weren’t there. I needed you.

My life is better off without you. I tried to reach out and help you but you always said I was the one with the problem. You don’t know how much you hurt me. You don’t know the emotional scar you left on me and on my life. You don’t know how much it hurt me that you were too busy cheating on my mother and your wife, who was busy working to put food on the table and take care of my sister and me. I only wish that you would one day come to your senses. No matter how much it hurt, I had to do what I needed. The pain would have continued as long as I let him control my life in ways that he thought he could. Unfortunately, I’ve turned the tables on him.

I took the control away from him. The one thing that family has never understood and never will understand is how much I can’t, don’t, won’t tolerate their behaviors. I do what i have to do so that i can truly feel at peace and do what matters the most to me, and if people can’t be supportive, and don’t like or understand my ways, then that’s on them, my life is mine, and i’m not going to prove to them or anyone who thinks i need their permission. I will do what has to be done, to stop being treated like what they want matters, because it’s not their life.

It’s not their decision; it’s mine. To the people I have always called friends, and no, I’m not talking about those I have liked or responded to on Facebook, I realize that you disagree with my choices, but for the choices I have made, good or bad, it hasn’t always been the fault of someone else. My mental health has always been a factor and I made the mistake many times of not taking care of myself and doing what I should have. Regardless of the situation, you don’t walk away, you face your problems. I’m not perfect, I know it’s been a rough road, but because of faith, trust, belief, and companionship, I get through no matter how hard. Yes, there are ways of getting through to me, but yelling, screaming, blaming, and ridiculing me, are not the ways to do it. I’m tired of feeling like I’m being walked on, walked over, and treated like I’m supposed to accept it.

Yes, I have issues explaining myself and reasoning with people at times. Still, when someone comes at me full force yelling, screaming, quick to jump to conclusions, not being forgiving, and getting an attitude, and making threats to hit me, I don’t respond to that kind of negative behavior. I have low self-esteem, that doesn’t help me at all. You asked me to describe my life of faith from childhood to now. I will say this much: my faith has played a major part in my life growing up. The endless nights of fighting tears from my father’s childhood abuse, his endless nights of drinking, his endless nights of abusing my mother, there were so many times i wanted to intervene, or try to intervene, there were times that all i could do was try to protect myself from him.

Times I had sat in my room crying to God to end the misery. There were so many times I questioned why God would make me and my family endure the abuse, both physical, mental, and emotional. There were times my flight or fight instincts came into play and had to prevent him from abusing my mother worse than what he had already done. There were times when I had to let myself endure the abuse to keep him away from her. Growing up, he never was in my life the way he should have been, but i saw more than enough of what i was willing to tolerate. I know there were so many times my mom was scared of my father, and I knew she didn’t know what to do.

She endured it to try to give my sister and me that picture perfect family, but it never really happened. Now that I’ve graduated college, it seems like God has thrown curves, obstacles, and everything my way, but through it all, my faith has been tested, and I’ve used it to keep me grounded. Faith is what really keeps me going when i feel like i’ve got nowhere to turn, and i’ve lost my way. There are so many times when i want to lose all hope, and give up, but through my faith, i know that i will be okay. Faith is why i can say i’ve persevered and made it through when everyone else said i wouldn’t. I’ve fought this hard to get to where i am now, and i don’t regret any of it, because everything that has seemed like a stumbling block, or curve in my path, has only made me stronger.

Yes, my past is behind me, and i can do nothing to alter my past, but my future is ahead of me, and i can choose how i shape my future. Depression can be a debilitating feeling. It can steal your hope, your joy, and your ambition. It can make daily tasks feel like burdensome chores. These truths would make it impossible for anyone to look at depression as a blessing, but I do. This may seem shocking, but I want to share with you why I am thankful for depression. The onset of depression can vary from person to person. For me, I struggled with feelings of unexplainable sadness growing up, but trauma and abandonment as a teen are what left a lasting scar.

Going through those dark times, and the healing process after was difficult. Being on the other side of those experiences has shown me my strength. I now know I can live through much more than I ever thought possible. It has forced me to truly know myself: Depression used to control my mood and my actions, causing me to isolate, self-harm, self-hate, people-please, and so much more. Once I couldn’t handle the emotional chaos and self-destructive behaviors anymore, I was forced to truly know myself when. Learning myself helped me to identify the root of my behaviors and actions. Once I knew the root, I learned to avoid things that triggered depressive episodes and anxiety. I also developed positive coping skills that worked for me.

The most precious reason why I am thankful for depression is that it has made me an advocate. Living through depression has given me an immense understanding of invisible struggles, which has made me more compassionate. Since I am no longer controlled by my depression, I have the strength to share my story and encourage others through the darkness. I don’t believe I could be as effective in this role if I had never lived through it. Just because I have depression doesn’t mean that I am always sad. I am not always crying and I don’t perpetually feel hopeless. In fact, if I didn’t tell you that I have depression, you probably would never even know. I wear a bright smile and love encouraging other people. Each time I opened up a little it was a good experience but the fear of peeling back the next layer remained.

Now, I have finally reached a point of confidence built upon many positive reactions from many diverse people, whereby I know that if I open up and someone reacts badly, it is all on them and does not reflect on me. I have always been the very definition of a closed book. Still, I talk very little, especially about my feelings or deepest thoughts. The idea of someone understanding me terrifies me, yet I also fear being misunderstood (a wonderful paradox). But from things that matter, I will not hide, as hiding only makes the darkest night even darker. I’m grateful for my mental illness because it brought me to where I am today, and I quite love where I stand.

But I would argue that all the suffering I experienced better prepared me for the big, dangerous world. It’s because of the mental illness that I was guided to explore all the dark recesses of my mind. All along the way, I was developing coping strategies to keep me healthy when the world around me is seemingly falling apart. Living with depression and anxiety has taken a lot away from me. But it’s also given me so much. It’s given me strength. It’s taught me resiliency. It’s taken me from being plagued by my mental illness to becoming a force in the mental health community, and an advocate for everyone like me.

With three of the most wonderful people in my life, they’ve changed me, they’ve provided experiences and conversations that have taught me so much. I’m stronger with them and I’m stronger because of them. They’ve made me realize I wasn’t alone and that it’s okay that yes I’ve fallen, I’ve slipped, but I’ve gotten back up. I realized what I needed and that it was okay to reach out. I realized that it was okay to talk about what I’m going through and that sometimes it’s that person that listens…it’s the person who can change your perspective no matter how much it hurts and no matter what it takes to try to get on the path to healing…and for me, that means sharing my story to help change people’s lives, and to help them cope, and to shine despite diagnosis that honestly is words, it doesn’t have to define them. My mental illness has taught me that no matter what life throws at you, you have a chance.

It might not be the best chance, or an opportune one, but it is a chance. And it’s what you do with those chances that counts. Depression makes me feel worthless, insignificant, and burdensome, I won’t ask you for help, because I don’t have the strength. Please sit down with me, and let me know you are ‘here’? I might not be able to talk about feelings, but ask “how do you feel today?” and I’d know that you care. While your heart may be racing, to your mind and body it’s as if every thought and movement has to wade through tar. Just functioning every day is ten times harder; living becomes exhausting. I remember how on some days just putting one foot in front of the other was so hard. Depression re-wrote the script of my personality.

For days, I’d get myself going round and round in negative and highly destructive thought patterns. I worried about everything, and my anxiety caused me to make mountains out of matters that could be easily fixed. I thought I was a crap person but, due to the ‘slowing down’ effect, I didn’t have the energy or motivation to make things better – and thus round and round I went. But still I couldn’t reach the dizzy heights of ‘feeling positive’, and my failure to do so just made me feel useless and that I wasn’t trying hard enough. But explaining this was too difficult (and embarrassing), so I just smiled. I felt like I was being judged, and criticised for being miserable when I didn’t have enough reason to be. And I didn’t think I had enough reason to be either, I told myself that ‘things weren’t bad enough’ and this was a constant source of guilt. But here’s something about depression: it is proudly non-discriminatory.

There are no conditions for entry, it doesn’t comply with logic, and it will welcome you with open arms – regardless of whether you, or anyone else, thinks it has enough ‘reason’ to. I could tell that my gloominess was repelling my friends, and I feared that my constant despairing was still pushing them further away from me. Obviously, people were putting up with me, rather than enjoying my company. But this wasn’t a revelation; it was how I lived with myself. I became a vacuous presence that drained others’ energy, and I hated myself for it. But I didn’t have any strength of my own and, like a parasite feeding on a host, it wasn’t out of choice – it was my only means of survival.

I’d be woken by these negative thoughts in the middle of the night and lie awake worrying for hours. And then I’d worry that I’d be tired the next day. And then I’d worry that I would feel so much worse because I would be tired. And I did, and so it went on. This repetitive thinking is a classic symptom of depression and is known as ‘ruminating’ – a term introduced to me by my therapist. But what was worse than the sadness, was the void. The emotional black hole that left me dead inside. Making any kind of decision was impossible. I had an identity crisis because I didn’t have any opinions. I

didn’t and couldn’t care about anything. I set unrealistically high expectations and criticised myself when I inevitably failed to meet them. And this was all in the context of feeling guilty for being depressed in the first place, I tried my best to masquerade as someone happy and ‘normal’, but often I didn’t have the strength or desire to play the part, and negativity spilled into my words and behaviour. I became needy, constantly seeking reassurance. I’d typically appear at my most negative when I was simply exhausted of sustaining the cover-up. It was relentless and draining, and sometimes I just needed a break to express what I was thinking, even if it was a toned-down version – I always kept my darkest thoughts hidden.

Please don’t be offended when I don’t respond – sometimes the only way of coping is to shut you, and everything else, out. I might snap back at you, or say “I’m fine”; when we both know that’s not true. Stay with me, even in silence, tears, anger and irritation – don’t ask “Why? What? How? When?” Just tell me you’re here when I’m ready to talk, and maybe one day I can. What does that look like and mean to me? It means that my kidney issues, my iron deficiency, my hypokalemia, my PCOS, my hematuria, my oxygen saturation, my bipolar, PTSD, depression, anxiety, my low sensation bladder, my back, my spine, my headaches, my vision, my sleep apnea, they are a part of me, yes.

Still, they don’t define me and they don’t control me. They are words, a part of my journey, but I have a team on the journey with me, doctors providing a treatment plan, and people who care and want the best for me. Still, all I ask is patience. If I can’t find the words at times, hold me and give me welcome arms to cling to when I’m not strong enough. Hold me and let me cry. Be my rock and strength when the world around me seems so bad and when I’m pulled down beneath the weight of my emotions and personal struggles.

By sharing my story, I thought I could help open the dialogue about mental health and give others the little push to open up and share their own story. I thought I could be the start of the ripple effect, the stone dropped into the water, which starts small waves of change. Gratitude is important for me in coping with mental illness and living in recovery. Today I am thankful for PTSD, depression, bipolar disorder in my life. It has made me a person of character, perseverance, and hope. It has taught me so much about myself, the world, and others, such as how to be human. I know what it means to suffer, to be in need, to hope, and to experience love and friendship in a way that I don’t know would be possible without bipolar disorder.

For a long time, I felt like there was something wrong with me, or that I was lacking something, but perhaps what was wrong was not so much who I was, but my perceptions. My own illusions that life is meant to be lived perfectly free from illness or struggle is what has perhaps caused me the most stress and suffering. By reframing my thoughts, and seeing bipolar disorder in my life not as the end of a good life, but the beginning of a new life, I have been able to live in recovery and experience family, friends, and love. We all make choices, and while none of us chose to have bipolar disorder or any other mental illness, we can choose to look for rays of hope today, to give thanks for small and great victories in our recovery journeys, and to keep on living knowing that, this too shall pass.

I am a 37-year-old female who has PTSD, bipolar, depression, as well as many health conditions. Have learned to get through my problems alone due to stigma because I don’t have a lot of friends and I don’t trust many people. I have learned that I am strong because I know to do my own things, and I learn to stand on my own, because over time, my voice has often been silenced, and I have not felt empowered to open up. Until I got married, I felt so alone because I didn’t have a support network. I’ve learned to trust my feelings and emotions because of perceptions and judgments towards and about me.

My name is Morgan Gray. I am currently a senior at Mississippi State University majoring in History. Above all things, I am a first-generation student. This title means a lot to me, considering that my grandfather was only allowed to receive a third-grade education before he was forced to drop out of school and work in the fields of Mississippi. My mother was not allowed to go to college either, because her parents could not afford the cost of tuition. They were not informed about the resources they could use to prepare her for the next step of higher education.

Statistically speaking, I should not be here. It would be an understatement to say that I was not surrounded by people who saw my full potential. I was often bullied because of my weight, ethnicity, and lack of wealth at the elementary school I attended. I would go home and be verbally and physically abused by many loved ones. I was consistently ridiculed, oppressed, and overlooked in nearly every environment I was in.

At a young age, I was taught to speak correct English and to enunciate my words. Many of my black counterparts would tease me because my dialogue resembled that of a white woman. White students would shy away from me because my clothes were distasteful hand-me-downs, and I did not come from the same background as them. Needless to say, I was too white for the black kids, and I was too black for the white kids. These experiences taught me that no one wanted to hear my voice, and no one cared what I thought.

In an effort to better myself, I began to seek council with Janae Robinson at the Student Counseling Services on campus. I was severely depressed because of the magnitude of loss that I had experienced. I did not see the potential of my own life and did not have a greater understand of my purpose in the world. I was diagnosed with depression in Spring 2018. I suffer from situational depression, the result of childhood neglect, physical and sexual abuse, and bullying throughout my life.

At Mississippi State University, I was presented with an amazing opportunity: to be the person I knew I could be. I forgave myself for the horrible things that I could not change. I learned to love myself despite my flaws. One day, I came to the realization that someone else’s beauty is not the absence of my own. I did not want people to judge me based on my materialistic possessions, but solely off my character and work ethic. I learned to value my own self-worth and to take pride in myself regardless of what society says.

I take the time to indulge in myself, and to share the importance of mental health and self-love. My demeanor improved drastically once I changed my mindset. Now, I am more focused on my career, the wants and needs of my community, and the importance of educating myself about diversity and leadership. I can say that my confidence and courage can be witnessed in the way that I speak and dress. Without a shadow of a doubt, my presence is acknowledged and accepted in every environment that I enter. Because of my boldness, elegance, and resilience, my peers and mentors hold me to a higher standard. This motivates me to be the best version of myself at all times.

The general theme of my life during this period is to consider the subtler spiritual truths that give my life dimension and meaning. My main challenge is to question how far I have come in an effort to fulfill my ideals, and to identify what changes I should make.

Now, I currently serve as the Vice President of the Holmes Cultural Diversity Center’s I.D.E.A.L. Woman. Our organization is composed of women who value academic excellence, professional growth, leadership, womanhood, and community service. Our goal is not only to succeed in all endeavors, but to excel beyond typical expectations. We encourage and motivate women to establish and use leadership skills that will not only enhance themselves, but also the individuals they come in contact with.

I devote my life to giving back to my community and aiding those who are in need. Currently, I am a Youth Development Professional at the Boys and Girls Club of the Golden Triangle of Starkville. This experience is extremely eye-opening because I have the privilege to interact with a new generation. I get hands-on experience with their problems, and I have the opportunity to help my students grow and learn.

Now, I realize that in order for me to effectively aid my community, I had to understand it in its entirety. I started to understand that my people were starting to lose their place in society. They did not have a good understanding of mental health, or of the importance of supporting themselves or others; they were not aware of their history and the vital role our ancestors played in building this nation.

Once I realized this, I took the initiative to learn about the past so I could understand the present, which would aid me in predicting my future. The goal is to dedicate myself to something bigger than my surroundings. It is now time for me to open up, grow bigger, and take pride in my scars. This will let all of my past selves shine through.

All my life, I suffered from rejection and disappointments. It seemed as if I never fit in with the crowd, so I acted out to seek attention and became the class clown. I was always different from most of the kids my age. I always found myself alone and desperate to be loved by anybody. My parents were there but weren’t there; they missed out on so much. I was from house to house; I was very rebellious and disrespectful. So my closest relatives abandon me. I remember days staying at the homeless shelter, sleeping under the bridge. I can remember local pastors and community leaders putting me up in hotels. Outstanding citizens open their homes to me. I use to cry and ask God, “Why Me?”. In all reality, I was a good person. I became so desperate to be loved that I tried to buy relationships and friendship just to be alone. I ended up getting used a lot. I use to fall so easily for girls because they acted as if they were concerned or cared. I gave all of me to end up empty. I love strong and hard. So most of the time, after they have used me, they move on, and I’m stuck hurting. I care way too much sometimes and too nice. I never healed from rejection, and the family hurt, so I cleaved to anyone who showed me attention. Everyone I opened my heart to always left me feeling empty.

It all started in 2013; my mom called the cops on me cause I didn’t give her money and claimed that I ran away from home when I didn’t even live with her. I stayed with my grandma cause she raised me & let me have my way. The only rule was if I wasn’t working be home by 9 pm which I could never do… so she calls herself kicking me out, so I went to stay with my aunt, so I was there three weeks, she told me to go to my grandma for the weekend I did, but I left to get something too to eat my aunt got mad talking bought my granny let me have my way… so I move back with my grandma all summer. Then school started. I had to move back with her. I was there 3 days this time. The weekend came she told me to go to my grandma for the weekend, I didn’t go I went & stayed with a friend. I got to my grandma’s house later that same week. So my aunt gets there, makes me get all my stuff, and takes me to my mom’s house. We get there to find out my mom done move can’t reach her. My aunt thinks she so perfect and does no wrong. She is a teacher and has kids in college, so she thinks she is better than the family. So my other Aunt who worked at school I went to said to bring him to my house. I went there stayed a month. I got in trouble at school and got wrote up, so she kicked me out. Plus, the school was concerned about my guardianship, so I was out of school for two weeks. I was then staying with my other aunt, who is like a mom to me. My aunt called me and told me to come to get my stuff. They then tried to make me go to my mom. I didn’t, so they all jumped me. I then tried to commit suicide, the cops came and took me to the ER, they all followed.. we get to the hospital I told them exactly how I feel bout them. All my life me & my cousin have been the outcast they always said we would never be anything. So for six months, I was placed to place, homeless shelters, hotels. Then God blessed me with an apartment. I felt as if I had nobody, and nobody wanted me…

Then my mom was there, but she didn’t understand, & my daddy never really cared; as long as I was doing what he said, he tried to be there, but I kind of pushed him away cause he was trying to make me a thug. Growing up, my mom didn’t work; she lived off welfare; as long as section 8 was paying the bills & rent, she was fine & getting food stamps… I use to feel for my brother and sister cause I think about what would happen if welfare gets cut off… They moved to Houston with my dad. I wonder how she lives knowing that She missed some of the biggest events in our life. I do not pity her cause she was raised better. I really wouldn’t have anything if it weren’t for my granny. I pray God to bless that lady’s life because of what she did for me…… Behind every disappointment I stood tall in my truth and kept pushing forward. I lost spiritual mentors, but gained a love from my community by becoming heavenly involved in changing my community for the better. I married the love of my life and had a beautiful child. What the devil had for me to fail, God turned it into a testimony.