5/15/18 (from March 24th)

I’ve tried to type at least four times since my last post but, not matter what I type it doesn’t feel real. Now I’m here, typing, and trying to find the words to describe how I feel even though I don’t know if there are any. Truthfully, I don’t feel like… me. I feel like this person trapped inside of this body and brain and can’t escape no matter how hard I try. I feel like I’m a soul thats trapped inside a world that doesn’t even feel real. I try hard to figure out what is me thinking and what is the depression however, I am not always able to do that. I keep looking for an exact answer on what will fix this but there is no exact answers to this. There is no step by step guide to follow that will cure depression in under ten minutes and give me my brain back. There isn’t a immediate way to change who you are as a person and truthfully, that’s all I really want. I want to be someone I can’t be and everyday I get crushed a little more when I realize all over again that no matter how hard I work at this, I will never be a different person. I will always be me and I don’t understand why that hurts so bad. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be here at all, no matter what person I am. Maybe it’s because living is something that I didn’t get an option in and I don’t have a way out.

I always used to have hope that maybe someday things would be different, and now that I look back I’m not sure if I was hoping for things to be different in the way that I could finally live my life the way I wanted, or things to be different in the form of no longer living. I wish I could go back into the head of that little girl that was lost at point A and tell her that someday she would be in college and majoring in something she would later dream of doing, and maybe she wouldn’t have wanted to have such a different life, maybe she would have never started to self harm or starve herself. Maybe she would have been “okay”. Truth is, I know that no matter what I could have said to that little girl, it wouldn’t have made a difference. I always see the world in black and white except when I was young I didn’t see any color other than black. The black that could suck you in and hold you in its grasp and you had to accept the fact your were trapped.


Part of being in PHP is process group, which is basically where we all talk about our main issue and ask for support and how others deal with the same type of issue. Today I didn’t bring up my question but related to someone else and told everyone I struggle to love myself. I also brought up that when I stopped self harm for three months was when I attempted suicide and now that I am trying to get all of my ducks in a row all at once, I don’t really know how to manage it all. By the end of group it felt like the entire topic was on me and I was having one very intense 1 on 1 session.  I guess right now I am trying to sort out in my head  how to validate my feelings without losing touch with my feelings. I think that is something I do a lot, because I tell myself that it is okay to feel hurt and then non directly telling myself it is okay to harm myself or not eat. I guess I just never really thought about it more in depth and now I am and I don’t know completely how to make sense of it all. I am basically self sabotaging myself by coming here to start to love myself and build self worth and then coming here and restricting and self harming. Self harming and restricting is basically feeding into my depression, the thing that I am trying to conquer the most.

I can’t really get self sabotage out of my head, probably because its evidence that I am doing to myself what Grandma used to do to me. I always say I want to get better and say I am putting the work in but am I really? How can I really be putting the work in when I am still continuing to hurt myself just like grandma used to? I honestly feel disappointed in myself, like I have been not only lying to others but mostly lying to myself.  I thought I was ready to fully recover and now I look at myself in the mirror and don’t know if I really am or if I am just faking it in a way. I always like to think that I have my life together but in reality, I don’t have it together in the slightest. I am so scared of actually feeling my feelings that I put up my walls to protect myself from others, but that doesn’t protect me from myself. I am my own worst enemy in this battle and I am letting myself get hurt more and more but smile and act like everything is okay because I am in treatment.

I always blame grandma for me restricting because she would call me fat and make me go for runs and was so hard on me, but maybe its not completely her fault. She is a neutral prompt that I am assigning a value, and that value hurts me. I think I am using restricting and self harm as a way to take back control, but in reality I am giving up even more control to them. In order for me to take control back I need to stop feeding the depression which means I need to stop restricting and stop self harming and to actually talk about my feelings behind all of it. I’m honestly more scared of talking about my feelings than the possible complications of restricting and self harm. Last night I wrote a pro’s and con’s list of all of the self harm I do and then the opposite. Reading it now I’m so sad and frustrated at myself for putting myself through so much hurt when I have the option to not be doing any of this to myself. Im hurting myself simply because I don’t want to do the hard work and actually talk about and feel my real, deep emotions. I just keep building my walls up higher and higher until something comes and knocks it down and then I have to build the wall up all over again. I just continue to be my own worst enemy and I don’t think twice about it. So what do I do now that I am conscious of what I have been doing to myself? CHANGE.

“Change starts with you”, and now is that time. I have to change the patterns I have continued to do to myself and I have to do it because I want to, not because someone else is forcing me to. “


I haven’t typed anything in a while, I guess thats because I haven’t been ready to actually face my feelings. Truly, I still don’t know if I am actually ready to but sometimes your biggest fear is the best thing for you, and this is one of those cases. I am still in PHP and it has been one of the roughest periods I have gone through in life and there are many days I don’t know if I will actually make it through. I just feel like I am in a constant fight with my own brain and while I have people who say they are here to support me, I still feel like I am completely alone. How do I justify feeling like I am completely alone when so many people want to support me. Maybe because nobody truly understands exactly what is going through my head. I am kind of just like a lost puppy that was left alone in a box on the street, with people constantly walking past me and petting me and on the rare occasion being taken home, but never kept for long.  I just become a bother to whoever takes me home, and I just get returned back to the box I originally started in.

Everyone tells me that i’m not a bother, but the issue is that even if I was, most people wouldn’t tell me. I always grew up and would go to a friends house and my mom would always say “don’t out stay your welcome”, and that has always been in the back of my head with everything I do. I guess mixing that with anxiety and constant overthinking doesn’t go very will. Honestly it hurts because I never feel like I am truly loved or cared about, as if I am staring at the other person through a fence. We can talk but they can never come to my side and see my world completely, only what they see through the fence. I feel trapped. I can’t trust anyone because I am constantly afraid that they are going to get bothered by me and not want me around anymore but don’t want to be rude and say it. I never can truly know whether or not someone is being completely honest with me. I guess that is something that I want to work on most, getting out of my own head for a while and seeing things clearly, even if I can only see bits and pieces clearly. Something is better than nothing, right? I don’t want to be constantly afraid like I’m the lost puppy that someone brought home, kept for a while, just to return it back to its original box. I want to trust that I am actually liked and matter in this world and arn’t just one huge bother.

Overthinking is always what gets me into the most trouble, because many time what I am overthinking results in the wrong answer and essentially hurting myself in a way by putting me through so much stress, anxiety, and fear. My psychiatrist asked me something today after I told him that I self harm as punishment. He asked, “Which is harder to deal with and sit in, talking about your feeling and emotions and actually feeling them, or cutting?” I said that it would be harder to actually talk and truly feel my feelings, and he said “Exactly, so talking about your feelings is more of a punishment than cutting so focus on that instead of hurting yourself.” I never really thought of it like that and now I keep thinking about it and its honestly one of the only things that I can’t find a way to overthink that results in me hurting myself. Probably because its so true, I am terrified to have to actually feel my feelings and talk about what happened completely. It hurts worse than any cut or bruise ever could, just without anyone seeing. I mean, its still really hard and going to be hard to watch this last time I self harmed heal but maybe in a way its a start to actually recovering, even if I have to see it as a punishment to myself.

I saw my case manager at the end of the day today and broke down crying to her, which is something I never do. I cried because I am so hurt inside and now i’m so scared of what feeling is actually like that I can’t let my walls down completely no matter how hard I try.  Depression, self harm, and restricting have always been safety blankets in a way, and I have gotten very comfortable with them. But now I have to voluntarily give up those blankets and show myself for who I truly am.


“Was this self harm or a suicide attempt?”

How are you supposed to answer that question when you don’t even know yourself. What about when you tell everyone it was self harm because that is what you always say…. but maybe it wasn’t. What was actually going through your head as you sat there staring at the pills in your hand wishing you could take more? Were you truly hoping you would be okay, or was that your automatic response because you are too scared to show people that you truly arn’t okay? What then? I told you guys what happened this past weekend and typing that out was really hard for me, because I truly didn’t know if it was just self harm or if that actually could be considered a suicide attempt. I wasn’t ready to even consider accepting the thoughts that were going through my head at that time. I always see everything in black and white but this is different. This I keep trying to see in black and white and I feel like it falls into a grey area that I have no way of understanding. How do you even know what to ask to get help when you don’t even understand what the topic is.

Sitting there staring at the pills I was texting two people, however I didn’t tell them what I was doing in that moment. I told them ten minutes later when I realized I had no control over anything that would happen from that point on in my body. I knew it wasn’t a overdose, and truthfully that entire night I wanted so badly to take all of the pills I had, but I didn’t. I knew what would happen if I took all of them, but I didn’t know what would happen taking a certain amount. Is this too little? Is this too much? I was scared because there was so much that I didn’t know, and those two people I was talking to knew I was scared. The difference, one asked me if this was a suicide attempt and the other automatically assumed it was self harm. One questioned me when I quickly said it was self harm because she knew it could quite possibly be complete BS. The other was too focused on what was going on in my body physically to ask what was happening mentally.

I am suicidal, but that doesn’t mean I will for sure act on it, but it means I’ve considered. I have stood in the mirror and wondered if this was the last night that I would live or if I would get up tomorrow morning and go through the same routine I do everyday. Im strong, but do not underestimate the weak part of me. I know my depression is not me clearly thinking, but I listen to it, and some days it is more convincing than I admit to others. This is not a suicide note saying that I am giving up this week and I see no hope, this is a note asking that you see more than the words I say, because I will get hurt by protecting myself from others, and nobody will truly know what happened. This is a note saying I need you but I will never say it because that means I have given up a tiny piece of control that I am holding onto. I know some of you who read this blog and others of you I don’t know but wish I could. Understand me when I say this because this is the truth, I do not need to go to the hospital, I will not go into any program no matter how many messages you send me, but I need your help to keep me safe and I trust you to do that. Honestly, I don’t give a fuck if you only send me one text a day asking “How are you feeling”, but those of you who know me in person and have the privilege to read this, I need you, don’t make me invisible. That one text a day may mean a lot more than you think it does.

Im scared of hitting publish because I don’t know how some of you will react when reading this, and i’m not sure I am ready to actually know your reaction to it. Please be gentle.




“Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?”

When translated, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?” means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”. As I see things fall down around me and/or remember the times I watched everything go wrong and was powerless, I think to god to help me. Over the past few weeks however, I have started to wonder where god has gone, and if he is there to support me anymore. Everyone I talk to say that god does not punish us for what we have done wrong, yet I still feel that he’s doing exactly that. If god is not supposed to give us more than we can handle, then why did he give me all of this? Maybe I can’t handle this, so why did he give me this. I strongly believe that god has a set plan for all of us and that everything happens for a reason. If this is the case, then what is the reason for this? For my father to have cancer, for me to have gone through years of abuse when all I could do was take it. Is there truly a reason for all of that?

I want to trust god to take care of me and be there when I need him most, but considering I am doubting my beliefs now, how am I supposed to trust him when I need him the most. Everything is easier when we have exact reasons for everything that happens, but we can’t always have that. I keep trying to see that god doesn’t punish us for our wrong’s, but while I can see that in everyone else, I still feel like that’s what he is doing to me. I’m starting to feel truly alone, with not even god supporting me.

I always wish there was a reason all of this happened to me, a reason more than that my family knew what they were doing and just kept doing it anyway. I remember very clearly some of the times I was being sexually abused, many of the times things were physical, and way too many of the times it was emotional. I hate remembering those times and know that there might not be a actual reason I went through it other than some people have bad childhoods. I will never know if there is actually a reason for what happened no matter how many times I remember it all, no matter how many times I stay up at night praying. The only way I cope with not having a reason is telling myself that having gone through this will make me a great social worker someday and maybe I will be able to help those that went through the same pain I had to.

On a different note, I have always encountered people who didn’t believe in mental health, but I guess it was just never something I really encountered from someone I didn’t know. Today however, someone really offended me when telling me that my anxiety and depression was “just made up stuff that there shouldn’t be meds for.” and  she continued to say “I don’t believe in all that, all you need is to calm down, and just do some acupuncture.” It felt like she was completely invalidating my feelings and what I was even there for. She told me to just use a heating pad…… as if I wasn’t already doing this every day and night…. AND STILL FEELING PAIN. I was honestly just very annoyed with my experience there as a whole. What made it even worse was that was just the RN.   That wasn’t even the actual person who would do anything! When that person came in, she asked the general questions and said either I have to do the exam today because its a waste of time to wait according to her, or to take Motrin and see this helps. As if I don’t already do all of these things. Which I informed her of. Lets just say that I am never doing anything through health services at the college again. My first two times there were great but I’m done after this experience.

Once again, on a completely different note, there are a few memories that I keep thinking about and I don’t really know why they keep coming up. I don’t notice anything in particular that could be triggering them so its weird that they keep coming up like this. The first memory I really keep thinking about is the first time that I attempted suicide, and it hurts remembering every single detail of what happened. The second memory or I guess topic that keep thinking about is the sexual abuse. I admit this still bothers me a lot but I am scared to actually say what happened. If I don’t talk about it I guess then I can keep denying it happened. If I don’t get triggered to remember more, then maybe it didn’t happen. I know its probably wrong to think about it this way but no matter how hard I try to understand just got bad things are, I go numb and everything feels fake.

As of January 29th, I have gone two months and three weeks without self harm, and the urge to self harm is finally starting to go down a bit. I know there will probably be times when the urge to do it gets just as high as it was before, but even having two days in a row where I don’t have the urge to do it is amazing. I have had a lot of ups a downs the past couple weeks with my own emotions, and my dad. I know I never updated on my dad and I guess I was just so stressed that I forgot everything I even wanted to say in the process of typing these. He was in the hospital for about a week and is finally back home. It is definitely going to be a very rough journey from here on but we will do it the best we can. The one thing that really honestly helped me feel so much better was seeing some of the people I was at the seminar with back in November. It gave me a reminder to that I am cared about, that I am not alone. It gave me a big reminder to hold onto hope, a reminder I definitely needed.



This has been a wild two weeks to say the least. It started with being suicidal, and as depressed as I used to be. Easy to say, its been a rough two weeks emotionally. On the plus side, as of 1/8, I have been two months without self harm. Everyday that goes past it gets a little bit harder to ignore the urge to self harm, and every meal I eat, just makes it worse. All I hear in my head is the voice that tells me I am fat, I am not enough, I am a failure, and I don’t deserve to live and/or be okay. Its hard to resist self harm when every little mistake you make, especially when it comes to food, makes the voice in your head tell you that you deserve to be punished. What can make is worse is not being able to tell anyone what you are feeling in the moment because you are too scared of what might happen if you do.

Truthfully, we never really know what is going to happen next. I know I never really gave a new update on my dad, but I was still trying to learn how to cope with it myself. His CT and PET scan showed that the tumor in his lung grew from 3.2 to 3.7. and he lost more weight, putting him at 158. The doctors expected this to possibly happen and have now decided to start a much more intense form of treatment starting 1/15. Nobody, including the doctors, are sure that my dad will be able to handle the new treatment, but all we can do is try.

All anyone can do in life is try their best and let fate decide what to do. I like to be in control of every single detail of everything, and in reality, I will never be able to control even a quarter of what I would like to. I definitely can’t control other peoples actions, and sometimes thats what I wish I could control most. I work with a guy named Hayden, the same guy who had made a post on my page a few months ago. Heres the thing about Hayden, he’s rich. Not that I have anything against people who are fortunate enough to have money, but I do have a problem when people get greedy with their money. The college reopened on January 2nd. That was the last day Hayden came to work. He works 15 hours a week, been gone for two weeks, and only worked five hours. I do not respect people who lie, and I never have. When people lie to me multiple times, then I do not want you in my life. Hayden lied to me about multiple things, and then decided to text me and call me a bitch, and text me “why is it such a big deal if i’m not there for a couple days? like honestly. you act like this job surrounds all of our lives i have a lot of things to worry about then a school job. my throat is in so much pain and it’s so obnoxious. i don’t want to go to work to deal with more drama bullshit and other shit just to be annoyed more. all i’m doing is taking a couple days off. i’m coming back tuesday and not taking as many  days off again so i don’t get why it’s so important if i’m there or not. you just need to stop being so rude and mind your business bc i’m tired of one getting bombed from you with your attitude when i’m not doing anything wrong to you and two you being so bothered that i’m missing a couple days of a little school job that all we do there is bitch work. i’m coming back tuesdayso please calm tf down.”. If I ignore everything that he has said to me and the way he has treated me, the reason I am so beyond frustrated with his is because he does not need this job. He takes this job for granted and stopped caring a long time ago. He is taking a position away from a student who can’t go to harper without a job on campus. He’s taking a job from a student that is in the same position that I was when I first came to Harper. I will teach you because you care, but once you stop caring, so will I.

On a completely different note, Rebecca was home for a couple weeks and I spent most of that time with her. She left this past Wednesday, but before she left I wanted to come out to her. So on Sunday night, me and Rebecca went to Dairy Queen. I know it would be completely empty, so that was the easiest place to tell her. We both got ice cream and then I told her. I was so glad I did, and she had absolutely no problem with it. She was glad I told her so we could talk about who we like together now haha. I told her mom that night too, who was also just as happy and accepting. What I wasn’t prepared for was Tuesday. My cousin Jamie was over, and it was nice to just be able to talk to her, considering she has know the longest. Me and Jamie were just talking in the living room, but what we didn’t know was the my mom was hiding behind the corner, listening to some of what we said. After Jamie left, my mom texted me and asked me to tell her what was going on. She wouldn’t drop the conversation, and finally I told her. She didn’t respond as well as Rebecca and her mom did, but at least she wasn’t mad at me. The next night, she told me “You know, if you somehow end up dating a guy, don’t think you are attached to a title, you can just say you are straight again.”. Her saying this made me upset to be honest. But what made me even more upset was that I told her I would tell dad this weekend, but instead she decided to tell him herself. The next morning when I found out, I was really mad at my mom, and she didn’t understand why that made me upset, until she got in the car on her way to work and it occurred to her. I feel bad that I got so upset at her, because she said she cried on her way to work because she felt bad. Those are the moments when I recognize that even though I hide my anger very well and try to always avoid feeling it, that doesn’t mean that it isn’t there. I guess I can’t keep trying to hide everything, because no matter what it will show itself eventually, whether I like it or not.



Isn’t it a coincidence that when I stop typing I become suicidal, and when I am suicidal I then stop typing. Well, maybe thats not such a coincidence. My mood from one day to another changes so dramatically that I have no clue what to expect even tomorrow. I can’t help but wonder whats causing this to happen when it had stopped for quite a while. Could it be because I don’t have a set, detailed schedule like I am used to? Is it because while I am still taking my meds, I am not taking them at the exact same times I do during the school year?

Over the past week, I have been suicidal for at least four days, and depressed all but one day. I admit, I was somewhat scared knowing just how bad I wanted to at least self harm, and those thoughts leading farther and farther until reaching into suicide territory. Honestly, I have no idea how I am going to get through this without self harming again, or restricting as much as I possibly could. I can usually somehow see through everything and try to imagine a time where I can go without restricting, without self harming, without suicidal thoughts. Right now, I honestly can’t see that time.

Sometimes, while I am able to open up about what I feel, it is hard to be open about details. This is one of those times. I was raised with everything having a reward or punishment. More often than not, I received the punishment rather than the reward. At some point I got used to everything having a punishment or reward and started that same pattern with myself. This is what is very difficult for me to even type, let alone send it to others and post it. Something that I did very often in High School was self harming every time I ate when I told myself that I wouldn’t. Right now I have gone about 7 weeks since I have self harmed, which has been quite difficult for me to do, which makes me even more proud that I made it this far. While I have been able to go without self harming, in order to get myself through that I have taken my feelings out on food. Every time I eat, I feel as if I have to punish myself with self harm, which makes keeping myself very difficult. When I can’t self harm to take that pain out on myself, the next thought that comes to my head is suicide. If I can’t even successfully go as long as I want without eating, then why should I be able to even live. Its simply another thing that I manage to screw up.

I don’t know whats going to happen, and I think that is what scares me the most. I am rethinking how strong I actually am through this. What if I do slip up…what if I really, really slip up.