Mental Health: My Story

My Story

The earliest thing I can remember from my childhood is easter. My brother and I were rushing out to the yard to find what the easter bunny had left us. I was excited, I was happy. Besides that, I truly cannot remember a time as a child or teenager where I was genuinely happy. It was more like i had this mask on for the world to see. 

I remember being bullied my entire childhood for either being overweight or for my eyes. I have something called general nystagmus where my eyes shake really bad and I also happen to be completely blind in my left eye since birth. Up until I started going to school, I didn’t understand that I was “different”. What I should’ve realized is that what made me different was also something that, in the future, I’d come to not necessarily love, but be thankful for.

I never knew what it was like to be depressed until I realized my mom wasn’t coming home. Some people have deadbeat dads, mine was my mother. I remember when my brother and I were hungry so we went downstairs to find her. I guess she was upset because she was busy with her new boyfriend. She chased me down the hallway and choked me on the floor. She was not at all a good mother. You would think I'd be grateful to not have her in my life anymore, but it was hard. All the mother daughter banquets I never attended with her. My dad went with me instead and I love him for that, but it wasn't the same. 

As I grew older, my depression got worse. When I was only 8, could've been 9, it's still hazy, I was molested. I obviously didn't understand, but I knew something had to have been wrong for the person who did this to tell me to keep it a secret. I was 2 feet away from my little brother in a closet with this person. I still don't remember his face or name, but that's because I've got PTSD from it. I didn't come forward until I was 13, but by then, I was living in a different state and there was no evidence. I never heard anything from it since the day I reported. 

Since then, my anxiety grew to be worse than it already was. My dad drank all the time and we lived with my grandfather who also drank. They were never abusive towards me but it was hard. They made sure me and my brother never went without. 

My mother didn't come back into my life until my 5th grade year. I then learned I had a baby sister who I love to pieces, but I'd soon find out my mother would choose her over my brother and I every time. I spent one summer with her and then decided I wanted a change. I thought she was different. So I moved to Minnesota from Kentucky to be with her right before my 13th birthday. That's when I told her about my depression and how I wanted to harm myself. She sent me to a psych facility and they were useless, honestly. I missed my first day at my new school. 

The 2nd time I went to treatment, it was a month later. One of the staff members there told me that because I had actually cut myself that time, that I was ugly, that I wasn't beautiful. I went on to be hospitalized again toward the end of that school year. 

In August of 2013, my father went to jail. It was very hard on me and my brother. I cried a lot, but I kept in touch as much as I could through letters and the occasional phone call. 

Anytime I felt depressed or like I wanted to hurt myself, I would tell my mom. That's what my doctors said to do, but every time I would tell her, she'd be angry with me. It wasn't that she was angry with herself like she'd say, either. The anger was with me. Every time I told her I cut, she'd send me to a hospital to "get help". Really, it was so she didn't have to face reality. 

When I was 16, I met a girl on Instagram. We became close and ended up starting a long distance relationship. After just a few months of even talking, my mom agreed to let me stay at her house a few states away for the summer. She turned 18 that summer and it wasn't too long that she sexually assaulted me. I froze and went back to when I was 9. I spoke up when i was 18. My mom shrugged it off like it was nothing when she found out. 

When I was 17, my mom and i got into this huge fight over something so dumb i cant remember what it was. I told her that the way she was treating made me want to cut myself and she then told me to go do it. I attempted to cut myself in the kitchen while my step father at the time sat there and my aunt who was living with us at the time took my younger sister to a different room. Luckily, the blade was too dull. Shortly after, my mom tried to OD and then lied about it while in treatment. 

That same year I believe, the FEDs busted in our front door. Wouldn't tell us why, just that they needed to search all electronics. When they got to my aunt's computer, they had found what they were looking for. She had been sharing very graphic images and videos of young children. My mother went to take her, her things, but was too high to even drive. I drove us home and I didn't have a license. 

October of 2016, my siblings, myself, and my mother moved in with her new boyfriend. He had three kids of his own and they were living in a three bedroom trailer. Keep in mind that I've attempted suicide at least three times before this move. I got to a new school, my 3rd one since moving in with my mom and I hated it. The year after I turned 18. I hurt myself again and my mom made me check myself into another hospital. I was just so done with everything. She made her boyfriend's daughters take ten minute baths and they couldn't use conditioner, while my sister could take 20 minute baths and use an entire bottle on her hair. I was taking care of four kids by myself more than half the time. And it's not like I had any friends and I didn't have a license, so where was I gonna go anyhow? Nowhere. 

In January of 2018, the school social worker set me up with a social worker through CCS. It's a program for people of all ages who have mental health issues. She was such a great person and still is, even though she called the cops on me. Still irritates me even though it was for my own safety. Anyways, she set me up with a team of these five amazing women, you can get paired with men as well, who helped me reclaim my life. I worked with someone who did yoga with me, another was a peer support and we did art together, two of them worked together to help me find a job and schooling for college, and one in particular helped me the most. I was originally paired with her to workout and help me feel better by eating right and things like that. 

April 25th, 2018, my grandfather died. I had literally lost all hope for everything. He was my best friend. I cut one more time the day after. The second Friday of June was my last hospitalization. I had never taken it seriously, but this time, I was full on ready. 

When I was released, I went to a group home where I stayed from June until March. There, I began to find myself. I was able to heal from things with the help of my doctors and my team. I started to do equine therapy with an equine therapist instead of working out, though we did it occasionally. It was the most beneficial thing I did while in the CCS program. That's where I did most of my healing. I got bit and stepped on quite a bit, but I was always so calm on the farm. It felt like I was supposed to be there in that moment. 

In March of 2019, I had been in CCS for a little over a year and I graduated from the program! I then moved in with my father so I could go to college.