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Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Fears vs. Dreams

I mentioned the organization To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) in the last post. They have a very popular campaign called Fears vs. Dreams in which they urge people to write down their deepest fears and their greatest dreams and share them with the world.

 I remember when this first began, I thought for days trying to think of what my fears and dreams were. I feel like I have so many dreams that it was difficult to narrow down. Also, in regards to the fears, the only things that I'm aware of are failure and the occasional snake. However, after looking at some of the other posts, I felt as though I should get deeper and find my true fears and dreams. Finally, it all fell into place and I realized what they really were for me.

Fear: That I'll never truly love myself. 
Dream: That I'll make a difference & help people smile again. 

If you've read any other posts in my blog so far, you know that I struggle with self-esteem and am definitely the type to tear myself down before others have the chance to do it. You'd also know that I have quite a few things on my "To-Do" list of life. In thinking of what I'm most afraid of, I discovered that more than failure and snakes and even drowning (which, lets be honest, is pretty freaking scary), I am afraid of never loving myself. 

On the other hand, when thinking about the dreams I have, I realized that most of what I want to do is about helping others be happy. When I imagine my future bakery, I picture lots of smiling people diving face first into a cupcake. When my mind wanders to the band I'd love to start, I hear my goofy lyrics and see a crowd singing along with smiling faces. Yes, some of it is about making myself happy, but I feel like my dreams are also meant to allow me to be a person people can go to for a smile. 

So let me ask you...what are your biggest Fears and Dreams? Leave me a message!

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Help

Maybe I'm wrong, but I think it'd be a safe assumption to say that the majority of the human population has experienced depression at some point in their lives. Obviously there are different variations, treatments and outcomes, but it still seems like a topic that is somewhat taboo despite the number of those who've gone through it.

It shouldn't come as a surprise to learn that I, personally, have had a relationship with depression. For me, it struck in the winter of 2007, right as I was about to graduate from my community college. I remember thinking that I would never be good enough to find a job in my desired field (communications and film editing), plus I was about to embark on the last stretch of schooling before I entered the "real world." I had just gotten out of what I thought at the time was a big relationship, and my mind freaked out. I fell into a pit of despair, felt constantly alienated from those around me, and couldn't seem to find my way out of the dark enveloping hole I had fallen into. I was too afraid to ask my family for help; too scared of the judgments to even consider therapy or medication. Eventually, I began to feel a little better. By August of 2008, I was enrolled in the college that I would experience most of my life experiences thus far and meet several people who would change my life. I got on and off Prozac twice. However, the entire time, I could always feel depression looming over me, waiting to strike again.

My tattoo, my contribution, my reminder.
www.twloha.com

A somewhat little known fact about me is that I also used to cut. I started at the young age of 14, and continued up until I was nearly 24. It was my go-to relief. I reached for the razor when I had a bad day, when I felt guilty about something or when I didn't feel at all. It's been researched and apparently the medical field agrees that cutting can release endorphins. Keep in mind that these endorphins are the things that make you feel good when you exercise or after sex. To people who have never cut before, it can be unfathomable. "Why on earth would you deliberately break skin and create scars on yourself? Life can't be that bad!" Honestly, this thinking caused me to cut even more because I felt guilty for feeling depressed. The organization To Write Love On Her Arms was a big factor in helping me get over everything. They're a resource available to anyone experiencing depression, suicide, cutting or addiction.

This leads us to the topic of suicide. While I've never attempted, the thought has crossed my mind once or twice. On three occasions, I've dealt with suicide. One of my friends from my community college shot himself in his hometown. Another of my friends wrote me a suicide letter and tried to hang himself on my birthday. When that failed, he called me atop a tall building, saying he wanted to jump off. I was on the phone with him for hours, trying to remind him of the things that make life worth living. Thankfully, he came down and is still alive today. The third was a great girl I worked with for a year or so. For the year that we worked together, we went out what seemed like every weekend. When I moved to WA, we tried to keep in touch and would text or FB chat every few months. Then one day in November, I get a message from her ex saying that she had killed herself. I never did get any details regarding her unfortunate death, but it was a shock to say the least. It's never easy to lose someone to suicide, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has questioned if there was anything that could've been done to prevent the death of a loved one.

As someone who has struggled with depression and cutting, it's not hard for me to understand what leads people to take their own lives. Things get too difficult, hurt too bad, and it seems as though it's the only viable solution to end the pain. Personally, whenever those thoughts tried to cross my mind, I'd find myself thinking about my family and those I'd leave behind. This alone was reason enough to keep trying. The whole reason for this blog post is because one of my closest friends was informed the other day that a friend of his OD'd on pills, leaving her brain dead, and eventually forcing her family to pull the plug. It made me think of my past, my friends who have resorted to suicide, and what could have been done.

So here you go, world. This is my plea; my call to arms if you will. If you, or anyone you know feels depressed, suicidal or just needs someone to talk to, please get help. Call the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. It's confidential and free. Get a hold of a friend. I'm always available to talk, if you feel down and out. Just please, please try.