Mental Health

One thing I don't really like to talk about is my mental health. I was taught to believe that my mental health was either not there (because I never knew what depression REALLY was... do not even...) or, after slashing myself open, something that I had to be ashamed of and try to hide from others (because who would accept such a "mess"). It was used as a way to control me through shame and I spent many years trying hard to understand and overcome it. Sometimes it's been easy. Sometimes I have been left curled up in a ball sobbing because I can't make the pieces of my mind fit. Sometimes I wanted to die. Sometimes I just wanted to find a way to survive. Sometimes, I didn't care where I was mentally, I just wanted the nagging voices and horrible thoughts to just stop.

I have Bi-Polar Disorder. 
I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
I have Borderline Personality Disorder and Schitzophrenia.
I have borderline Aspergers.
I have attempted suicide more times than I can say. 
I do struggle with my urges to harm myself. 
My body covered with scars.
 
But...

I have accomplished a lot of things. 
I have always managed to regain control of myself before it's too late. 
I have wonderful friends and family as well as my fur-babies. 
I have a boyfriend who loves me despite the things I have wrong. 
I have my own little place.

I have always been me. I will always be Wendy. 

With all the things around suicide (particularly the death of Chester Bennington, still can't believe that) and people actually embracing the fact that they have fought that mental battle. The way it can make you fight to just find a reason to keep moving. There are times when you want to just do it, despite the fact that it would only cause your family to suffer. People say that those who do take their lives are "selfish" but try and see it from their side of the fence. When you get to the point where all you want to do is close your eyes and just not -be- anymore it's hard to get past that. It's almost impossible to get that out of that place. It can be extremely overwhelming and it can be terrifying.

Reaching out when you feel that way is hard and because of other people's attitudes it can be embarrassing. The worst thing is when you are at the point of falling apart and you have to try and tell someone for them to either not care, not understand or just offer an old cliche response. People have asked me "why do you feel this way?" and I  just looked at them. The weird thing is that sometimes I will explain it, sometimes though, I just can't. I can't explain why I feel hopeless and like giving up when I can't even understand it fully myself. I find it even worse when I feel like I have to justify myself and how I feel and it can be so insulting when someone almost expects me to explain myself. I feel like saying things like "can I not just feel the way I feel?" or "Why should I explain my reasons? Why can't it just -be- what it is?"

I remember my first real "breakdown". I was about 14 and I had had 3 years of verbal, physical and even sexual abuse in school (including one of the bullies trying to get me to pleasure him sexually in the bus parking area otherwise I was going to get beaten up) and the teachers of the school weren't doing anything other than trying to blame me for everything. I'd started getting in to trouble just so that someone would even notice I was stressed, leading to being branded a "problem child", I remember I was getting ready for school, I was dressed, ready to go until I was about to go. I just calmly sat on the stairs. At first my Mum responded, like most would, with firmly trying to tell me to go and get my bus, then, understandably she got angry, then when I finally told her why I was not going anywhere from where I was, she phoned the school authority and thats when it all came out. I did go back for a couple of weeks afterwards, I was told to write everything done to me down but when even the teachers seemed to have it in for me, I couldn't do it. Imagine the shock my Mum had when she came home to find me sat behind the sofa with a kitchen knife. 3 weeks later I was taken out of school. I never ever went back to that place. They did try and get us in trouble but the Education Authority were amazing, they backed us and got me accepted in to another school which was nearer to my home.

The fact is, mental health is real. It isn't a joke and it isn't a shameful thing. It can damage every aspect of your life and because people can't always see it, or you don't fit the picture, it is often treated as though it isn't there or genuine. If someone does try and say "OK so my mental health is being an issue", please don't shun them. Please help them. Please tell them that they aren't alone. Please make them feel loved, and if you're the one whose suffering, please don't give up. Please reach out.

If I hadn't when I did, I don't know where I would be now.

Loves
Wendy xx