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.