JUST ONE CUT

  When the pain within me became unbearable I looked for ways to find relief. Emotions ripped at my insides, they weakened me and I needed a way to ease them for even just a few moments. I felt this way in college and years later as an adult. I turned to cutting myself in order to find relief. It was temporary, but it gave me an escape from my inner hell.

  When self-hate, anger, frustration and anguish burned within me I tore at my flesh. Just one cut and I was free. I couldn't feel anything, not even the sting of my wound. I floated above my body, staring down at the sad mess. Then I plummeted back into my body. Tears streamed down my face, the pain returned. I felt the sting of my wound and I began to regret it.

  Thoughts flooded my mind. What have I done? How can I hide the cut? How would I explain my wound if someone saw it? I sat alone in my room, where I always injured, once again overwhelmed by emotions.

  

  Injuring became an addiction just like drugs.

 

  I needed to hurt myself to ease my pain. I tried different methods such as burning myself and punching a wall till my fist turned black and blue. Cutting gave me the most relief.

  

  It became a craving. When the negative thoughts rushed into my mind and my feelings burned within me I suddenly needed physical pain and I had to cut. I fixated on it and planned to cut when I was alone. I never hurt myself in public places. I couldn't let anyone find out what I was doing. No one would understand. It had to be my secret.

 

  I started therapy and began to discuss my addiction. A friend told me about the book The Scarred Soul by Tracy Alderman, Ph.D. I stared doing the exercises in the book. The book and therapy gave me alternatives to self-injuring such as journaling, developing a support system, not spending a lot of time in the place I hurt myself and reminding myself of the negative effects injuring had on my life.

  

  A friend gave me a goal of going a year without cutting. Having a goal gave me the willpower to fight my urges.

 

  Now I have gone 12 years without injuring. At times It crosses my mind, but I remind myself I am much stronger than the urges and have other alternatives.

FINDING HELP

I keep grasping at the vines of life. I pull myself up, but the vine breaks and I fall. Thoughts of giving up fill my mind. Will the light ever shine or will I lay on the bottom forever? Is there a way out of the hole. Will my life be filled with darkness forever?

I asked myself these questions over and over again. In college I believed I could never reach the light. I told no one of my inner anguish. The loneliness grew deep within me. The pain built up within me until I broke down and told my mother what was happening.

My mother was determined to find me help.

In therapy I was given a chart. One side had negative thoughts and the other had positive thoughts. I had to fill out the chart each time I had a negative thought. On one side I put I'm an worthless, piece of trash and on the other side I wrote I am a smart and wonderful person. Finding something good was a struggle especially since I spent most of my life believing I was no good and saw the bad side to everything. How could I change my thinking process?

A long with therapy I was put on antidepressants. Finding the medication that worked for me was not easy. One made me tired and another caused my depression to worsen. Despite the effects, I kept trying new ones until one finally gave me relief.

Talking to a therapist took time. I had to learn to trust my therapist with my deepest secrets. I needed to tell them what was happening within me. The stuff I told no one. At first I hardly talked. After several visits I finally let all out and I suddenly felt as if a burden was lifted from my soul.

When I took a year off from school, I started a job at a grocery store. I made new friends and my life turned around. I was suddenly given a second chance. I started staying out late with friends, sleeping over at my friends home and living the life I didn't have when I was in high school. With the help of therapy, I developed a new view of my life and myself. I finally reached the light and I danced in it.

The light may not always shine. You may fall again, you may have bouts of depression and thinking positive could become a struggle at times. I fell again, years later. I went a period of five years without therapy. When I did fall again I knew to get help once again. I remembered the light and fought again to find it. I reached it and I now live within it.

NO WAY OUT

When depression clouds the mind, finding away out seems impossible. You loose hope and begin to believe the only way to end your pain is to die. Death seems logical and like the only answer.

During my first year of college, I began to plan my suicide. If I were gone, there would no longer be any suffering from endless darkness and overpowering thoughts. I would finally be free of internal agony. I believed my death would not only bring relief to me, but also to my family. In my eyes, I was a burden to everyone around me. My illness was not only destroying my life, but to me, it was ruining my parents, grandparents, siblings and friends lives.

My thoughts were blurred by hopelessness and deep sadness. I planned what would go on my gravestone and the many ways I'd take my life - like driving my car into a semi, overdosing on pills and sliting my wrist. I even imagined my family standing around my coffin with smiles. Suicide, to me, seemed like the right thing to do.

I couldn't live with the pain that burned within me. What future stood before me? One where I lived in a dark hole, one where I cried easily and one where I could not find joy. This was not the type of life for me. Desperation to end my life filled me. Just one slice of my wrist and it would all be over.

I kept slipping further into my hole. Self-hatred and negativity ate at my insides. I stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom at night fighting racing thoughts. My chest tighten and my throat throbbed with a need to scream. I have to end this. No one will miss me. The pain has to end. I can't go on. It's to hard to live. God, why can't you just take me now. I took a bottle of pills and became dizzy and nauseated. I laid in bed wondering why I had done such a stupid thing.

What I couldn't see was how badly my death would have hurt my family. With help there was a way out of my pain. In therapy, I learned suicide is not the way out of inner pain. I realized with help I could climb out of the hole, but if I took my life I'd never get the chance to find joy.

It took me time to realize how precious life is. With therapy, medication and a support system of friends and family I found what it is like to have happiness. I realized if I had succeeded in taking my own life I would have missed out on a lot of wonderful things like the birth of my many nieces an nephews and finding my soul mate. I now know life is worth living.

The Dark Hole

The hole of depression is deep and endless. Darkness blankets the soul. Climbing up the walls seems hopeless at least it did for me during my senior year of high school and first year of college. I tried to pull myself up, but I kept falling down. I grasped on to the vines of life, family, friendships and college, but they became slippery and I tumbled to the bottom.

At night my thoughts raced. I wish I was dead. I'm an awful person. Everyone's right, I'm stupid. I hate myself. I'm a good for nothing piece of trash. In the morning the thoughts continued. I struggled to get out of bed and stay awake in class. I injured to release the pain of my emotions.

I became a victim of a abusive friendship. She put me down and took advantage of my weakness. Yet I held on to her tightly. I thought she could help me find away out of the hole, but she only pushed me down further. I forgot what it was like to dance in the light. I cried easily and began to plan my death.

Being dead seemed better then dwelling in a hole of despair, anguish and hopeless. If I was dead, I would no longer be a burden to my family and friends. The torment of my emotions would be gone. I swallowed a half bottle of pills and became very sick. I became dizzy, nauseated and disorientated. I lived with my Grandparents during my first year of college and I told them I had the flu and spent a day or two in bed.

I couldn't tell my Grandparents how bad I felt, I couldn't even tell my parents. I didn't even understand what I was going through. When I read a pamphlet, I found at college, on depression I then knew I was sick and there was away out.

No matter how dark, or how far you fall down the hole there is away out. With the help of therapy, a support system and medication you can climb to the top. It took me along time to find the light, but with determination I found it.

Through therapy I learned to find positive things about my life. I started out small like noticing the sun shinning, realizing I had family who loved me and being grateful that I had a home. Then I learned to change my negative thoughts like my life is hopeless into positive such as I have a bright future a head of me. I used a journal to write positive stuff about my life each day. This was a very difficult task, but I kept at it. Medication helped make the process of changing my prospective easier.

I fought and pushed on against all odds to dance in the light of happiness. There were set backs, but I didn't give up and I reached the top.