FINDING THE LIGHT HAS MOVED

  Finding The Light has moved. Please continue the journey into mental illness with me at:
www.aimeeeddygross.wordpress.com  
 If you are a follower at this site you will find it even easier to become a follower at my new site. Please check out my new site, become a follower, leave a comment and find strength, encouragement, knowledge and much more in my blog posts. Keep this site for reference to my older blog post on Borderline Personality Disorder, Depression, Anxiety Disorder, and Self-injury.

 

NO LAUGHING MATTER

Mental illness is a very serious illness, and if untreated, it can lead to death. It's not a game or a joke. It cannot be fixed by thinking happy thoughts or watching a funny movie. It cannot be cured, but recovery is possible only with intense therapy and medication. People often make jokes about mental illness and even television shows turn a serious illness into something to laugh at. The truth is it's no laughing matter.

When I returned to work after being hospitalized, a fellow employee said to me with a big smile, “I heard you were in the loony bin.” I told him I was in the hospital, and it wasn't funny. When you end up in the hospital it's very serious.

He continued to laugh. “So are you crazy? Do you have a few screws loose upstairs?”

I wanted to smack him and yell, “This isn't a joke. I have a serious illness.” Instead I just walked away.

A mental health hospital is not a looney bin. It is a place where a person with mental illness can get the treatment he or she needs. It is also a place to keep a person safe from harming him or herself.

One day at work, I was taking my anxiety medication and another employee teased, “Are you taking your happy pill? Now you can be happy.”

I replied, “That isn't funny. It's an important pill that keeps me from getting sick. Without it, you'd have to clean up after me.”

Antidepressants and anxiety pills balance the chemicals in a person's brain and make his or her illness manageable. It's not a happy pill that magically takes away your sadness. It doesn't erase internal pain. It takes a mixture of medication and therapy to help a person find the light.

How many times have you heard someone say, “I have OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) because I like things neat?”

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is very serious and reaches beyond liking things neat. My husband and I have a friend who has OCD, and he uncontrollably obsesses over small and big things to the point that it drives him deeper and deeper into his dark hole.

There are movies and television shows that turn mental illness into a joke. I watched one movie that had a character who went from one personality to the next. They had the character do hilarious things when he switched personalities. They made Multiple Personality Disorder into a joke, when it is a serious illness.

The truth is mental illness is no laughing matter. It's a real sickness and should not be joked about. It's our job as those who deal with mental illness to tell the world our illness is not a joke. It is real and as serious as cancer, Multiple Sclerosis, and many other diseases.

Do you hear people make jokes about cancer? I've never heard a joke about a person with cancer or any other illness, but yet we laugh about mental illness. No illness is a laughing matter especially mental illness.

When someone jests about mental illness, I tell them it's not funny. I inform them how serious this illness is. Standing up to prejudice and teaching the world around me about mental illness helps the light shine brighter on me and the world.

I will be going to a writers conference this week so there will not be a blog post next week.

DOES A SELF-INJURER LIKE PAIN?

A common misunderstanding is that self-injurers like pain. Yes, self-injures do inflict physical wounds upon themselves, but it is not because they enjoy pain. Remember, self-injury is like a high. Cutting stimulates pain killing hormones (endorphins), making the self-harmer feel like she or he is on a high. The person's emotions rise to a high, and for a brief moment he or she is free from the inner pain within him or her. The injurer becomes numb to all pain, physical and emotional.

When my ex-boyfriend packed my bags and told me I had to move out, I had a breakdown and to relieve my inner pain, I put my hand through a window. My hand had a big gash in it, but it did not hurt. The endorphins kicked in and I was free from all my pain. When my high wore off, I began to cry uncontrollably as my wound began to throb. I looked at my hand and suddenly realized what I had done and felt angry at myself for causing myself pain.

I was rushed by ambulance to the emergency room. The doctor announced I needed stitches. Once he found out my history of harming myself, he asked me, “Do I need to numb you while I stitch you up or do you enjoy pain?” I was angry. How could he think I enjoyed pain? Didn't he know how upset at myself I was for doing that to myself? Didn't he know what self-injury was? How could he think anyone would want to be stitched up without being numbed?

I choked, “I don't like pain. I need to be numbed.”

He numbed my hand and placed seven stitches along the side of my palm. I left feeling frustrated and angry. I thought that a doctor would at least know about self-injury and how to handle a patient who does it.

I never injured to feel physical pain. I hurt myself to feel relief from my inner pain. I injured to fly above my dark, miserable, and hopeless self to a place where I felt free or high. The high was short-lived and when I returned to my depressed mood, the pain screamed at me. It told me how stupid I was and it internally punished me. I injured for that rise in emotions, for those moments of relief from all pain. 

I injured because I didn't know any other way of relieving my inner agony. I am actually a wimp when it comes to pain. When I got a splinter in my foot and had to go to the emergency room to have it cut out, I cried like a baby and asked them to end the pain.

In therapy I learned healthy ways to relieve my inner pain. My therapist taught me coping techniques like journaling, sharing feelings with a friend, taking medication as prescribed, changing my thought patterns, keeping up with therapy appointments, finding hobbies to keep me busy and so on.

I learned that the brief high isn't worth the physical and emotional pain I felt afterwards. I found the new coping techniques my therapist taught me more effective. I can now handle my inner pain in healthy ways, and because of my new coping methods, I stand tall within the light.

You can find out more about endorphins and self-injury at the National Alliance on mental illness or Nami link on the side of my blog page.

A SUICIDE ATTEMPT OR NOT?

There is a lot of confusion on what self-injury is and why a person injures. Some people mistake self-injury for a suicide attempt. It's hard to understand why anyone would go to the extent of harming themselves unless the person wants to die, but harming himself has nothing to do with suicide. Self-injury is a coping technique for overwhelming emotions or a way to just feel when you become numb inside. It's not to say that the person hasn't struggled with thoughts of taking his or her life, but those thoughts having noting to do with why the person is harming him or herself.

At a former job, the manager found out I was deeply depressed and I was hurting myself on purpose. She became convinced I was attempting to take my life. She called crisis and they showed up to my department. Not only was I embarrassed that crisis came to my work place and all my fellow employees knew they were there for me, but I had to sit in a conference room and explain to them that I was not attempting to take my life.

The crisis worker questioned me for a half hour. She asked me why I wanted to die. She asked if I was to go home would I try to take my life again. She wanted to know if I needed to be hospitalized. I tried to explain to her I didn't want to die and I was working with a therapist to stop my injuring. I told her the injuring relieved my inner pain and I was not suicidal. After a while she let me go and gave me their number in case I became suicidal or needed to talk.

I can't say I never thought of taking my life while I was sick, but when I injured, my goal was to relieve the immense inner pain that burned within my body. When I thought about suicide, I was in a different frame of mind. I wanted to save my family from pain I was causing them and I wanted to end my own pain forever. When I hurt myself, I just wanted to relieve my inner agony for just a moment or longer, not forever.

I even left my former boss a pamphlet on self-injury, but she continued to think self-injury was an attempt at suicide. Because of people like her, I worked hard to hide my self-harming.

It's important for us who injure or who have recovered from self-injury to educate others about self-injury. The more we write about it and talk about it, the more educated our loved ones and others around us will become. I write this blog post to reach out to the world and tell them about mental illness and self-injury. It's important that teachers, managers, crisis workers, doctors, parents, friends and so on one are educated about how to handle self-injury and what self-injury is.

Step up with me and educate others about self-injury. I believe I struggled with mental illness and self-injury to share my story with all of you. Writing about it is also therapy and keeps me within the light.

THE AFTER AFFECT OF SELF-INJURY

Self-injury can, in a sense, give you a high like drugs. When you hurt yourself you're suddenly free from your self-hate, deep sadness, inner anguish and many other emotions that fill you, or suddenly you're no longer numb. You finally have control. It's like you're on a high. The world around you no longer matters. The question is, once you're finished and the high is gone, how do you feel? Do you feel happy or guilty?

When I self-injured, I felt like I was suddenly free from my depressed and emotionally overwhelmed body. I felt like I was floating above myself looking down at the depressed mess and feeling free. I was free from my self-loathing, anger, sadness and anguish. Nothing could touch me. Then suddenly I fell back down into my body. I looked at what I did to myself and all those feelings rushed back into my body along with more emotions.

I'd look at my cut and feel guilty, ashamed and angry at myself. What did I do? Why am I so stupid? What am I going to tell my friends and family? I put a bandage on my wound, but it wasn't enough to take away what I did to myself. How am I going to hide my injuries? What if someone sees them? What excuses will I give them?

The feelings I felt afterwards weren't enough for me to stop self-injuring. I needed that high. It was the only way I knew how to cope with my mental illness. I kept hurting and falling back down into my world of pain. I was addicted to injuring and I ignored how it made me feel afterwards.

Often after I harmed myself, I would lie on my bedroom floor, curled up in a ball, and cry. I cried alone while my emotions ripped at my insides. I'd mentally punish myself for what I did and then a day or more later do it all over again.

In therapy my therapist would have me write out how I felt after each injury. Then I would write down the positive and negatives of self-injury. 

 

POSITIVE OF SELF-injury	NEGATIVE OF SELF-INJURY
I was in control Relief from inner pain	Guilt Shame Angry at myself Felt alone I was hiding wounds I lied to friends and family Depressed Self-hate

After doing this exercise, I realized that injuring was not worth it. I felt worse afterwards than before. The negatives outweighed the positives. I finally saw the flaws in my coping technique. My therapist taught me new and healthier coping techniques. With healthier ways of dealing with my mental illness, my emotions became easier to handle. I found by not hurting myself, I felt stronger and free from shame and guilt.

I began to express my emotions in journals and I would write out my feelings for my therapist. She would use my writings to help me find ways to handle what I was going through. With my journals and new coping techniques, I stand tall within the light of recovery.

A SILENT CRY

Self-injury is a serious illness and is not done for attention. Those who injure do it as a means to cope with their mental illness. It is also a silent cry for help, a cry no one hears and many do not know about, a cry most injurers keep a secret by hiding their wounds. Others injure in places that are noticeable or show their injuries to others. Even if they are not hiding their wounds, they are crying for help.

When I first revealed to my mom I was hurting myself she immediately found me a therapist. When I told my therapist I was harming myself on purpose, she accused me of doing it for attention and to hurt others. I tried to tell her that I was hurting badly inside and I didn't know how to relieve my pain. She wouldn't listen to me. I left each therapy session in tears.

Many injure as a coping technique and that is why I injured. I found it the only way I could deal with the overpowering emotions that filled me. My emotions hurt so bad I had to release them, and the only way I could think of letting them out was to hurt myself. A wound on my outer body felt better than what was happening within me. Some people harm themselves, because they feel numb and need to injure just to feel. I did it because I felt too much. Harming myself gave me an escape from my internal pain.

When I went to a friend's house for dinner, they were talking about people cutting themselves for attention. They said a girl we knew and some children they went to school with were harming themselves just for attention. I told them those who inflict wounds on themselves are crying for help. They are sick and need professional help. People who are emotionally well do not intentionally cause injury to themselves.

I hid my self-injury because I feared judgment like this. I wanted help, but I was afraid to ask for it. Deep inside I was crying, but no one could hear my cries, buried deep inside me. When someone did see my injuries, I made excuses. I wanted to yell out, “I need help,” but couldn't. Instead I hid my tears, creating a deeper ache within my soul. I cried silently with each wound I inflicted on my body.

If you know of someone hurting himself or herself, take it seriously. Talk to your friend, and tell someone like a parent, teacher or boss. Encourage your friend to get help and let your friend know you are at his or her side to support or to listen. Remember, a self-inflicted wound is not for attention; it is a cry for help. Listen to the cry and find a way to help your friend.

My mom and friends heard my cry. With their encouragement and therapy, I worked hard to put an end to my self-injuring. With determination, I stopped hurting myself and I haven't injured in fourteen years. Since I have found new ways to cope with my inner pain, the light shines bright.

STANDING TALL

Even during recovery bad things happen. What's important is how you handle the problems that come about. How do you handle the event that happened? Do you stand tall or fall apart? Do you revert to your old ways or fight to stay well? It's all up to you. Life is unpredictable and it throws a lot of stuff in your way to challenge you and your ability to fight your illness.

Recently the manager of the department where I work called me in to her office. I felt my heart drop. I knew I was in trouble. What did I mess up on? How will I be punished? I walked to the office with my heart pounding in my ears like a bad song stuck in my head.

I sat in my manager's office while she told me about my mistake and announced my punishment. A year and a half ago, I made a similar mistake, and when the manager told me, I fell apart. I started crying and couldn't stop, but this time I stayed strong. A tear did not part from my eyes. I stood tall and said, “Well, at least I have my birthday off.”

After being told I had time off without pay, I went back to work. I talked to my customers and put a smile on. A year and a half ago, I barely made it through the rest of my shift. I fought tears and I could hardly speak.

I chose to stand tall and face my mistake and punishment with strength. This time I was not going to let my error rip me apart. I was sad and mad, but I wasn't going to let my illness take over my emotions. I can't say my illness didn't threaten me, but I decided to fight.

During my time off, sadness filled me, and my thoughts began to swim in my head: I should have never made such a mistake. I'm a bad cashier. We won't be able to pay our bills. We will be so far in debt we will not be able to get out. I decided I wasn't going to let those thoughts take over. I reminded myself I was only human and humans make mistakes. We'll find ways to pay our bills. I got a vacation from work. I could sleep in and stay up late.

I decided to keep myself busy while I was off so I didn't have time to think. I put laundry away, I took our dog for a walk, I made plans to spend the night at my parents and go yard saleing. I also did some writing. I turned to my friends for support. They gave me encouragement and comfort.

Your illness will always threaten to take over during rough times while in recovery, but it's up to you to stand up to it. You may never be cured of your mental illness, but as long as you continue to fight you can keep yourself in the light.

I could have fallen apart over my mistake, but instead I stood tall. I refused to fall back into my old ways. I stood up and fought my sadness. I made the best of my time off. Because I didn't let my mistake knock me down, I am still within the light.

A PRIVATE SPOT TO INJURE

Typically a person who self-injures does so in privacy, picking a spot where he or she feels safe from interruptions. This becomes like a sanctuary. It could be a bathroom, a bedroom, an office in the house, a sewing room or any place where the person can be alone. A self-injurer will spend a lot of time in the place choose to harm him or herself.

When I self-injured, I did it in my bedroom. When I lived with my grandparents, my room was upstairs and theirs was downstairs. They hardly ever went up there, so I knew I had all the privacy I needed. I told my grandparents I was spending endless hours studying in my room. I did study, but I also injured. I sat alone ripping at my flesh and feeling my soul free of pain for a little while. I even had a spot in my bedroom where I stored the tools I used to harm myself.

My room was my hideaway from the world. No one would bother me, and no one would see what I was doing. I was ashamed of my self-injuring and I was ashamed of myself. What would people think of me? What kind of person was I? But in my room I was free of shame and I had nothing to hide. Outside of my room I wore long-sleeved shirts and told no one what I was doing. Since I was in college, my grandparents never asked why I spent so much time in my bedroom.

Years later when I fell down into the hole again and I lived with my ex-boyfriend, I hurt myself late at night in the living room. My ex-boyfriend went to bed early so I had the living room to myself. My ex was a sound sleeper and I knew he would not wake up and see what I was doing. I'd stay up late at night hurting myself. The darkness surrounded me and the urges, desire, and need to free my inner pain took over my rational thinking.

After my ex-boyfriend threw me out, I moved back home with my parents. All my siblings had moved away from home, and once again I hid in my bedroom. I spent many hours alone in my room hurting myself. I made excuses to my parents as to why I spent so much time up there.

I learned in therapy that isolating myself was only giving me an excuse to injure. I needed to spend more time away from the place I felt safe and free to do such horrible things to my body. I had to walk away from my comfort zone and face the world around me. I learned that when I felt the need to escape from my inner pain, I needed to be around people and communicate with them. The more I shared with people how I felt and the more time I spent with friends and family, the easier the fight to stop injuring became.

Take a step towards your recovery and come out of your hideaway. When you get the urge to hurt yourself, go to a friend's house, or spend time with your family. If you feel as if you have no one to, go to then find somewhere public. Do what you can to stay away from the place you injure. Search for a therapist who has dealt with self-injury and he or she can help you walk towards the light of recovery.

The more time I spent away from the area where I hurt myself the stronger I became at fighting my need to injure. With determination, I overcame self-injuring and I now stand within the light.

IS IT POSSIBLE TO STOP SELF-INJURING?

Self-injuring is a method of coping with emotional pain. It becomes like an addiction. You feel as if you have to do it and there is no other way to handle what is going on within you. It fills your thoughts and you feel like you can't control the urge, the need, and desire to harm yourself. So how do you stop?

Self-injury is a private thing. Many hurt themselves when they are all by themselves and they go to extreme extents to hide their injuries. I cut myself on my arms or on my shoulders. I wore long-sleeved shirts to hide what I was doing to myself. I realized the first step I had to take to stop harming myself was to tell someone. I had to let my secret out. I turned to my Mom and a close friend.

Like with any type of mental illness, you need to have support partners. I realized the second thing I had to do to reach recovery was to find two or three support partners I could call when I felt like injuring myself. These people had to be willing to be available anytime I needed them and be willing to stay on the phone with me until I felt I was able to control my need to hurt myself. One of my good friends would talk on on the phone with me till late at night. Sometimes we talked for hours; when she got me laughing then she would let me go. My mom was also available whenever I needed her.

The third step I learned in my process to get better was to find other things to do instead of injuring. I learned to keep myself busy with crafts and hobbies. When the urge got the best of me I would hold an ice cube in my hand. The coldness of the ice simulated the feeling of harming myself. I found cross stitching and wood burning relaxing. Find ten things you can do when the urge comes upon you.

The fourth step I did was to get rid of all tools I used on myself. I threw away razor blades and I hid knives or anything that would tempt me. I turned to a electric shaver for shaving needs. If I couldn't see sharp instruments, or if they were where I could not look at them, I was less tempted. I had my mother hide the knives so I would not know where they were.

Next, I had to learn to challenge my negative thoughts and learn to stop them. Just like in my previous blog post, I had to change my negative thinking into positive such as “I am such an idiot for hurting myself,” to “I did what I thought was right to take care of myself.” I also learned I must stop myself from thinking about injuring. When it crossed my mind, I had to stop myself and then try to force myself to focus on something else. This I found was very hard to do, but I was determined to do it. I used my journal to write down other things I could think about.

Another step is to set a goal. A friend at work told me if I could go six months without injuring, she would have a dinner for me with my friends. It was a struggle, but I made it to those six months and had my dinner. Next, I set a goal for a year and after each year I went without injuring, I celebrated my triumph. By giving myself a goal, I had something to look forward to and work for.

These and many more techniques on how to reach recovery form self-injury can be found in the book called, The Scarred Soul: Understanding and Ending Self-inflicted Violence by Tracy Alderman, Ph.D.

 

By using these steps and with determination, I have gone fourteen years without injuring. You, too, can stop injuring, but you must be willing to fight and work hard to stop. The urges to hurt myself have faded into the back of my mind. Now that I have found healthier ways to cope with my illness, I stand proudly within the light.

COMBATING NEGATIVE THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS

Negative thoughts tear through your mind and fill you with emotions that push you deeper into the black hole of depression. The bad emotions begin to suck the breath out of you and stab your soul. You struggle to fight them, but it seems hopeless. There is no end to the thoughts and emotions that ravage your mind and body. So what do you do?

Fighting your thoughts and emotions is like going to combat. Your mind has been thinking bad things for so long it doesn't know how to think otherwise. You have to stand up and fight it. You have to change the negative into positive.

Thoughts are connected to your emotions. I learned in therapy that the only way I could feel better emotionally was to change my thoughts and then my feelings would follow. The more negative things filled my mind, the worse I felt within.

When I started therapy while I was ill, I thought changing my thought pattern was impossible. What could I find good to think of? Then my therapist gave me a chart to fill out. Below is an example of a chart I had to fill out for each of my negative thoughts.

Date	Negative Thoughts	Emotions	Positive Thoughts	Emotions
Example 4/23 4/24	I can't do anything right. I'm a looser. My life is a hopeless wreck. I hate living.	Hopeless Sad	There are many things I can do well. I am a talented writer, I am a good cashier, and I am good at woodburning. I am a winner. Life is beautiful and being alive is wonderful. I have a lot to live for.	Hopeful Happy

Filling out the negative side of the chart was the easy part. Turning it into positives was the hard part. I was blinded by the darkness within me. I saw everything like the pages of a newspaper, in black and white. How could I see the color of positivity? How could I shine light within my mind? I spent hours trying to find a positive thought.

In order to get better, I had to declare war on my thought process. I had to force myself to find something good to think about. That was the only way I could control the emotions that kept eating at my soul. I made copies of the chart and each day I filled one out.

In time, positive thoughts came to me more easily. Once the thoughts became brighter, so did my emotions. Eventually, I no longer needed the chart. It's not that bad thoughts no longer cross my mind, but now I can fight them on my own. They do come to me less often and my emotions are brighter.

Fight your negative thoughts and emotions and find the light. Make copies of the chart. The book, Feeling Good The New Mood Therapy by David Burns M.D., has a variation of the chart. In that chart you link your thoughts to cognitive distortions. Find a chart that works best for you.

Since I went to combat with my negative thoughts and learned how to change them, I now stand in the light with joy.

Date	Negative thoughts	Emotions	Positive Thoughts	Emotions

ARE YOU STUCK IN THE “SHOULDS”?

There are many times in our lives we think we should have said or done something differently. We put unrealistic expectations on ourselves and often we feel regret. When the mind is lost in the depth of depression, we use “should” statements quite often, and this form of thinking creates a lot of bad feelings that push us down further into our hole.

“Should” thinking is a form of cognitive distortion and also includes “ought to” and “must.” I used this form of thinking many times when I was depressed, especially in college. When I got a low grade in one of my classes I thought to myself, “I should have gotten a higher grade. I must work harder.” This made me feel like a failure. I got angry at myself. I started pushing myself harder and I spent endless hours studying.

I told myself, “I can't do activities. I should only focus on my class work.” I didn't join clubs and I only made one friend who graduated way before me. I buried myself in college and classwork. After classes, I spent hours by myself in my room. This left me feeling lonely and stressed out. While in my room, the darkness within me consumed my body and soul. Negative thoughts ate at me, causing my inner pain to increase. I eased my pain by injuring.

When I had to take time off from college to take care of my illness, I fell into the should thinking. I thought to myself, “I should have been strong enough not to let my illness keep me from college. I ought to be smart enough to finish college.” I started feeling like I failed and that I was a looser. I shouldn't have needed to take a year off from college. I should have pushed on, no matter how bad I felt.

When it took me five years to finally graduate from a two year college, and I realized I was unable to go on to a four year college, my mind went on a should binge. I should have been able to finish college in 2 years. I ought TO be smart enough to go on to a four year college. My learning disability and mental illness shouldn't have gotten in my way of doing more with my life.

I couldn't stop the “should haves.” They over took my mind and thoughts, leading me to feel self-hate, hopelessness and worthlessness. Each time my feelings raced through my body and thoughts plagued my mind, I injured.

In therapy I learned by using the “should” statements, I was putting too much pressure on myself. I realized I was punishing myself for the things I thought I should have been able to do. By using the “should” statements I was putting high expectations on myself, and when I failed to meet up to them, I was only causing myself more sadness.

There are no “shoulds.” Everything happens for a reason. I learned to be happy with my accomplishments and to accept my limitations. Instead of I should have been smart enough to go to a four year college I now think, “Instead of going to a four year college I was smart enough to get a job and keep it for almost 21 years.”

By ridding myself of the cognitive distortion of “should” statements, I am able to stand within the light.

END OF A FRIENDSHIP

Friendships can come and go. Some friendships have spanned many years and will continue to thrive for many more. Some eventually fade after several years. Others survive for only a short time. When we lose a friend, we feel the heartache and move on with our lives. We make new friends and leave the old ones that did not work in the past. When you're suffering with mental illness, especially Borderline Personality Disorder, getting over a friendship ending can be dramatic.

When I was in elementary and high school I kept a list of each friend I lost. I held on to the memory of the friendship as if it were engraved in my mind and heart. I couldn't let go of the pain of losing each of the friendships. It felt like each of my past friends tore a hole in my heart.

In my adult years, a good friend became busy and could no longer continue our friendship, I felt my heart shred into pieces. I cried endlessly and left her notes begging her to take me back. I felt like my world ended. How could I continue on without my friend? She was my world. I needed her, I had to have her in my life, and I'd never be able to find anyone to replace her. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and the dark hole seemed deeper than ever. My life seemed over.

I couldn't just let go of my friend. Every Christmas I'd send her a card and note telling her how I but I never received a reply. I drove by her home, I called her number, and when she answered I hung up. I was very attached to her, which was a symptom of my Borderline.

She wasn't the first friend I couldn't let go of. The end of any friendship to me was traumatic. I held on to my friends so tightly that I couldn't imagine ever letting go. I became very attached to my friends and I couldn't get over losing them. It meant a part of me died and a scar was burnt deep into my heart. I couldn't pick myself back up. I just fell deeper into my hole.

I felt as if the endings of my past friendships were holding me down in the darkness. Making new friends became harder and harder. I couldn't trust myself and I couldn't trust them. I pushed potential friends away because I feared I would feel that deep, endless pain again. I couldn't possibly risk being ripped apart again.

In therapy, I learned that friends come and go. The end of a friendship did not mean the end of my life. I had to burn my list of friends I lost and allow myself to let go and heal. I had to learn that losing friends was a part of life, and I could make new ones. When a friendship ended, I had to face the challenge of trying to focus on something else other than my loss. With practice it became easier.

I had to learn to not allow myself to become attached to my friends. I learned I could hold friends dear, but set my own boundaries to keep myself from becoming attached. I learned not to call everyday-it's okay if we don't talk all the time-to give them space and allow them to have boundaries also.

I realize there are many kinds of friendships and not all are good and not all are meant to last forever. Some come and go. Even though losing a friend hurts, I now know it is not the end of my life. I can pick myself up and go on with my life without falling into the hole. I'm now strong enough to go on after a friendship ends and this allows me to bathe within the light.

THE CHALLENGES OF MAKING NEW FRIENDS

Making new friends can be hard for anyone. Finding the right person you can talk to, share secrets with, and trust isn't easy. This process is made more difficult when the mind is plagued with mental illness. Often people with mental illness become victims to bad relationships or reach out to people who are scared away by their illness. Those who are ill find it hard to trust, and they struggle with their own inner fears and anguish.

There is a lot of stigma about mental illness, which makes others afraid of people who suffer with it. While I was sick and even during recovery, I found it hard to tell new friends I have a mental illness. I feared they would turn away or judge me. If I were to tell them I had an illness of the mind, would they think I'm dangerous or faking?

When I was doing well for a while after college, I became friends with a woman I worked with. Our friendship went well until I became sick again. She turned away from me. She said she could not handle my illness. Other friends thought I was dangerous, some said I chose to be sad, and others thought I was crazy.

Then there was my own fear that some of the symptoms of my illness might drive my new friends away. What if I become too attached and overstep my boundaries? What if I can't be a good of friend to them as they are to me? What if I become afraid of them abandoning me and I push them away? How do I be a friend? What if I am too needy? What if they don't want to be around someone so sad? What if they hurt me? What if they get to know the real me and they hate me?

These questions swam within my mind. The strong emotions tore at my insides. I struggled with my fears while anguish squeezed and twisted my insides. I avoided making friends because my fear was stronger than I was. When I did make friends, I pushed them away to avoid getting hurt.

Even now while I'm in recovery I struggle with making new friends. Recently I made friends with a woman at work. She understands my illness because she had experiences with it herself, but I still fear I might scare her away. What if I text her too much? What if I overstep my boundaries and she turns away? What if she finds something about me she doesn't like? What if our friendship doesn't work out and I get hurt?

Making new friends is hard, but I learned in therapy to take it step by step. First, take time to get to know the person. Second, be honest about your illness and offer to educate him or her about your illness. If he or she is unwilling to learn, then the person is not the right friend for you. Third, learn your friend's boundaries and work on not overstepping them. Fourth, believe in yourself as a person and that you are worthy of making a good friendship and being a good friend. Fifth, stand up to your fears and learn to rise above them.

It's important to know that in order to be a good friend, you must take care of your illness and yourself first. You cannot have a healthy friendship if you're so caught up in your illness that the only problems you see are your own. The more you work on taking control of your illness, the stronger friend you will become.

Even though I struggle with fears of ruining my new friendship, I know deep inside I am capable of being a good friend. I know by taking my friendship step by step, reassuring myself I am worthy of a good friendship and facing my fears, I can have a healthy friendship and will continue to bathe within the light.

MAKING BAD CHOICES

Everyone makes bad choices at one point or another and does things we often regrets, but when you have mental illness, your judgment is clouded and you make many wrong decisions. Some people choose drugs and alcohol to help deal with their illness. Others pick the wrong friends or boyfriends or do crazy things that get them in trouble with the law. People who are ill become victims of those who take advantage of their illness and steer them in the wrong direction.

I made many bad choices when I was sick. I didn't turn to drugs and alcohol to get relief from my illness; instead I found relief in self-injury. Like alcohol and drugs, self-injury becomes an addiction. It gives you temporary relief from your inner pain and you can't stop. It becomes an illness that takes control of your thoughts, strength, and willpower. Like any other addiction, it takes therapy and determination to stop.

I also chose the wrong friends, and when I realized they were a mistake, I couldn't walk away. When I started working at a grocery store, I became friends with a girl who lived in a bad part of the city and had a boyfriend who did drugs. This friend stole my paycheck and lied about it, but I still hung around her.

My friend often asked to borrow my car and I let her. One time her boyfriend asked to use my car while I was at work and I agreed. He said he'd bring it back before my shift was over. He never brought the car back until the next day. I spent the night with my friend. Later the friend was fired for stealing from her cash drawer.

I made friends with another girl who was nice one moment and mean the next. She helped me set my sister up with a boy and then fooled around with the boy in the back seat of my car. I kicked them out of my car, but continued to be her friend. Years later, I decided to move in with her and her husband. She blamed me for everything, labeled her food, and turned on me when I least expected it. I moved out and went back home a wreck.

A bunch of us from work used to go bowling after work. When I decided to mix alcohol with antidepressants, I became angry and hit a girl I considered a friend. Afterwards I apologized endlessly, but our friendship was never the same.

I went from one bad friendship to the next. I couldn't see past my own inner pain to decipher what was a good or a bad relationship. Making the right choice seemed impossible.

In therapy I learned it's possible to make the right decisions. When I was ill, I couldn't see the consequences of self-injuring, but in therapy I saw that by injuring I was only dragging myself down further into my hole. The relief only led to hiding my injuries, lying, guilt, and self-hate. I learned it was I who could make the choice to stop injuring and I did. It was a struggle, but I did it.

I learned that I'm in control of my choices, and it is I who chose if they are good or bad. My therapist said to weigh the positive and negatives of the decision I was going to make. If the negatives outweighed the positive, I needed to walk away from that decision. She also said to listen to my heart and get others' opinions. I learned I needed to do what was best for me and avoid things and people who would cause me harm.

Now that I have learned how to make good choices, I am stronger than ever and I stand tall within the light.

A MOTHER'S LOVE

While facing mental illness, it's important to have the love and support of your parents. Your parents can be your biggest supporters, they can help you find help, they can listen, and they can be your strength. Some parents are not up to the task of handling mental illness, but parents are not always biological. Sometimes good friends or grandparents can become like mothers and fathers.

For me, my mom was my strength and support throughout my mental illness. Her determination has gotten me through some very rough times. I thought interviewing my mom about her experience with my illness may be helpful to others. Below are the questions I asked my mother and her answers.

I asked my mom, “How did you deal with the heavy load of your daughter's mental illness?”

My mother answered, “I dealt with my daughter's illness through my strong faith in God. My faith has gotten me through many rough times and it kept me strong while my daughter struggled. Also learning about mental illness and how it affects those dealing with it helped me a lot.”

I questioned my mom, “What help did you find to cope with your child's mental illness?”

My mother replied, “Literature I read about her illness helped me understand and cope. I learned it's important to learn what your child is going through. If you don't, you can't help him or her.”

I asked, “How did you go forward without being pulled into the illness?”

My mom answered, “I tried to keep a positive attitude as much as possible even when my daughter was negative. I worked hard at finding her help when she was in need of it. I prayed a lot and turned to God for extra support.”

I questioned, “How did you encourage your child to get help?”

My mother replied, “I talked to my daughter about her feelings and what she was going through. I supported her in finding help. I gave Aimee reading material about mental illness. We decided together to look for a therapist or any type of help we could find.”

I asked, “How did you deal with feelings of guilt for your child having mental illness?”

My mom answered, “I blamed myself for my daughter's illness for the longest time. I thought since my mother was ill, my daughter inherited her sickness through my blood line. I thought I gave her something awful. I learned it wasn't my fault. It's one of those things that can happen to anyone. I prayed about it and worked hard to change my way of thinking.”

I questioned, “What signs do you notice that told you your child needed help?”

My mother replied, “My daughter would get mad about simple things, she tried to hide her symptoms and self-injuries, she had trouble sleeping, she would cry easily and often, she was continually sad, she made a lot of bad choices, and she had a loss of appetite.”

I asked, “How did you find your child help?”

My mom answered, “We went to a nearby hospital and talked to someone from the mental health department and the person gave us a list of places we could go. There are also other mental health organizations and associations that can provide help.”

My mother added, “I was determined to find my daughter help, no matter what it took. I was also determined to help my daughter through her illness one way or another and I was not willing to give up. I am very proud of how far she has come.

“There is more help out there for those who are sick than there is for the families of those who suffer with mental illness. Some families don't want help because of stigma and not understanding. We need to educate families more.”

It's my mother's willingness to learn, try to understand, and stand by me no matter what that has helped me reach for recovery. Without her love and dedication, I would not be dancing within the light.

ANGER'S WAR PATH

Anger is a dangerous emotion that can lead to disaster and can rip at your insides. It can boil within you like tar in the hot sun. Anger can not only hurt you, but also the people around you. It can grow out of control leaving your life in ruins. When you're suffering with mental illness, anger can become very intense and unbearable. It can push you down further into your dark pit, leaving you feeling more alone than ever.

When I was sick, my anger kept building within me. I was angry at myself for not controlling my emotions, I was angry at God for allowing me to suffer, I was mad at the world for going on while it seemed like I was standing still, and I was angry at everyone else for not understanding what I was suffering with.

During my childhood, my anger was directed at my siblings. I got into fights with my older sister, my younger sister, and even more with my brother. My brother's, brotherly teasing set me off into a fit. I'd hit him, and before we knew it, we were in a full blown fight. My anger turned into an emotional episode. I would scream, cry, throw things, and fall to my bed in a hopeless heap.

I took my anger out on the people I love the most. My mom tried to be supportive, but I'd say mean things and accuse her of not caring. She tried very hard to be patient with me, and I'm not sure how she did it. When I went off, I couldn't stop. My anger would spill out of me like lava burning everything in my path. I'd tell her she was a bad mother, she never listened to me, and I hated her. I couldn't just let go. I'd go on to tell her she was the reason I was so miserable. I never meant a word I said, but I couldn't stop the words from parting my lips.

The problem was I wasn't sure when I was just angry, or if I was in an emotional episode form my Borderline Personality Disorder. Sometimes it was both, or the anger led to an episode. The more I turned my anger inward, the more out of control I felt. I'd argue with my dad until we both hit our boiling points. I couldn't let go of the argument. I kept making him madder and madder until we both said things we shouldn't have.

In therapy, I learned to calmly talk out my feelings, to be slow to anger, to journal, to take deep breaths, to punch a pillow instead of throwing things, and other alternatives to release my anger without being destructive. I also had to figure out how to take control of my Borderline. I had to stop being mad at the world, the people I love, and God. I had to find peace with my illness.

Anger is an emotion that isn't meant to be held in until it takes control of you. It can be released in healthy ways. Learning how to handle your anger and to release it without causing harm to the people you love can help you climb out of your hole.

Now that I have learned how to control my anger, the light shines brighter and my relationships with my loved ones and God are stronger.