Listen...

Teen and Young Adult Depression: Understand, Listen, Help.

[depressionaffects-blog]

Managing Life

Life is really hard friends.... In August I was hospitalized for depression, anxiety and PTSD. I spent two weeks in patient then a month and a half of out patient programs. The hospitalization saved my life. The resulting therapy has helped me so much. I am finally becoming the person I want to be by giving myself permission to ask for help. 

If you need help... please reach out to somebody. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

Greg and I

It was my last day with him before summer break. We were hanging out with his friends at his parent’s house, watching hockey and they wanted to go to the pub or Bdubs or something and he wasn’t deciding either way. I wanted to spend our last night alone but it didn’t seem like this was likely with all his buds around. So when his one friend asked again what was the plan I answered, “Well I was thinking since it is my last night here I could spend it alone with Greg…” and his friends left shortly after that. Greg looked over at me and said, “Thanks baby.” I nodded, “You’re welcome, let’s go get food.”

Sometimes it’s hard for Greg to say no to his friends when they want to do something, even if he doesn’t really want to do what they want. I knew he wanted to spend the night alone with me so I was the bad guy for him.

On the way to the restaurant it was raining pretty hard. I slipped my hand into his resting on the center arm rest and looked at his handsome face remembering the many times I had done just that over the past year. I wanted to get as much of him as I could in the next few precious hours. I started to tear up when I thought about not seeing him for three months. And for no good reason except that I was forced to go home for the summer. He noticed me crying and said, “Oh… baby”, with sympathy in his voice. We parked and he kissed my hand. I said, “I am just really going to miss you… but I don’t want to ruin our last night with tears.” And I just cried harder. He got out of the car and embraced me, and kissed me and whispered, “I know love, I know. We can get through it, though.” I nodded into his chest, “I know.” We walked into the restaurant in a half embrace. We drove back to his house and went into his room and got situated on his bed and began eating our Chinese food and watching How I Met Your Mother. I was going to miss him so much…

           Greg and I met in the first week of freshman year at an ice cream social in Ferncliff hall. We stayed up half the night talking about our lives and our experiences before coming to Wittenberg.

           He is a handsome man with tan skin, dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a full beard. He played football throughout elementary school to high school and has broad shoulder and strong legs. He has a kind feel about him and is always willing to help you in any way possible. He is really into video games and any strategy games and likes playing all sports. 

I had a crush on him pretty much the first time I met him, but didn’t act on it due to his involvement with a girl from home so I or he – we were both friend zoned. Throughout the year we would vent to each other and work on being okay with ourselves and with our lives. Neither of us were what you would consider mentally stable or healthy. Both of us were extremely depressed – both in a very dark place in the cycle of depression. He was cutting his arms and I was cutting my wrists and thighs. We kept saying we should stop but we couldn’t bring ourselves to do it – we relied on it too much. He was emotionally numb and saw no reason to continue to live. He was failing all his classes… he barely went to class. I grasped on to my academics and held on for dear life – using my books as escapes when I couldn’t deal anymore. I was in a deep depression due to a lack of understanding about why my brother had attempted suicide when he was younger and my own dark thoughts. Early in the spring semester of freshman year I was raped by a close male friend – which caused me to fall even deeper and attempt suicide only to be stopped by my sort of girlfriend at the time. I latched on to her and was hurt even deeper when she said she was done with me. I kept losing my footing and falling further into my depression but I wouldn’t talk about it. I kept saying everything was fine… except when I was with Greg. I wasn’t able to tell him directly that I was raped but he was able to guess and I could barely tell him I had tried to “fall” off the cliffs at Ferncliff Park. Greg was the reason I was able to keep afloat.

Our friendship was abnormal; we were more than friends but less than in a relationship. All we knew was that we needed one another. When things got bad we would chill while he and his roommate played video games – I would go up to his room, one floor above mine in Fern, especially when I couldn’t sleep or just needed to get away from life for a bit. We often talked about what we called “the scale of wanting to live” and what level we were on that day. Most days we were pretty low. I was a bit less severe than him at the time and my goal was to get him on the way to a higher level.

The next year, we were hanging out late in my room. At that point we were best friends and were hanging out with my roommate and some other people. It got to be 3 in the morning. My roommate said that’s it I’m going to sleep. I looked at Greg and said you have to go… but my roommate said “I don’t care he can sleep over,” and she flopped down on her pillow. I looked at him and he asked, “Is it alright? We can put pillows between us.” I replied, “yeah its fine, no worries on the pillows.” And we fell asleep. We didn’t touch, or kiss, or have sex or anything. We just slept. At one point in the night I found his arm and rested my hand on him. I was comforted by the connection.

We had many correspondences through Facebook throughout freshman year and the summer– he was so so sad. I tried so hard to make him feel better. I saw my brother in him. My brother, Jason, attempted suicide at age 18 just a few blocks from our house and left a note addressed to me. That led us into family therapy, and medicines and close calls with overdosing and with his instability. I saw Jason’s genius ways in math in Greg, and their ability to write amazing short stories, and how they are affected by the rain, and their obsessive playing of video games to try to escape and the deep deep scars on their upper arms and Jason’s thighs. Jason eventually healed and is doing much better today. And thankfully Greg is on a very high level of living with me too.

Three days after our odd sleepover we sat on the stone benches by the kissing bridge discussing our feelings. We had no idea what to do… neither of us could make a decision. I had just come off of a huge break up with my sort of girlfriend who had lied to me big time, and I was not ready for something new. He already knew he loved me that night. I told him I wasn’t ready to commit to love. He was okay with that. So we held hands and said well let’s give whatever this is a try. We knew we needed each other and we knew we made each other happy but what if we broke up? What then? We’d probably, at that point, both try to commit suicide. That night we made a pact to stop cutting and watched each other throw our razors away.

After that night he officially got out of the friend zone and into the boyfriend zone. After that we dated for a few months and then made it “facebook official”. Every day we were improving mentally. We were so much happier together. Of course we weren’t magically better again, but we were better able to deal with our illness.

I met his family three months into our relationship. When I met his mom for the first time she thanked me for helping him so much; she said I brought the light back into her son’s eyes. I wasn’t only in it to help him though.

I am with him because he makes me better and puts me on a higher level of wanting to live.

His friend Kody said, “did you ever think you and Sarah were made for each other?” to Greg in a facebook message and at four months he gave me a promise ring.

One night we were driving in his car leaving the parking lot on our way to the store. We were holding hands over the center arm rest. We rounded the corner and a police car turns behind us. He looks at me and says, “Oh no! A cop!”

“So? You aren’t even speeding…” I replied confused.

“They are after you!” he exclaimed.

“Me?! Why?”

“Because… you stole my heart.” he grinned sheepishly. I laughed.  

           Greg and I were very straight and honest with each other. In our friendship we promised to tell the truth and try to communicate what was going on in our heads as best we could. We always knew when something was wrong with the other – and we would force it out so we couldn’t let it eat us from the inside out. We have tried to stay strong in this in our relationship. We are always honest and if we have an issue we talk about it.

When we lived in Fern our sophomore year we would go to a lounge, I’d sit on the table – him on the couch and I’d spit out what was bothering me. Then he’d ask questions and process then we’d watch a movie. The next day after some digestion we would re-discuss and understand each other and learn from the experience. Lately we hold hands and force our issues out – we refuse to let go of our grasp so we can’t get too mad or too upset. We don’t really argue – we discuss and try to understand – we never yell at each other or keep quiet about issues - we put them straight on the table as soon as they arise.

Greg makes me feel amazing and beautiful and like I can do anything with him by my side. I can never stay sad or mad around him; he always makes me smile and feel better. We are both rather odd, and we watch anime and Doctor Who together. We don’t drink and we just like being in each other’s company.

I got him a promise ring at the end of the summer. We had an amazing year but then we had to deal with the summer – usually you would think summer is a good thing but I had to return to California and Greg had to stay in Ohio. So we struggled through. We wrote letters, skyped nightly and often fell asleep while still connected, he collected gifts for me. We worked; I had a class and two part time jobs. He worked full time in a packing warehouse. I went on anti-depressants and to a therapist, he submerged himself in videogames. But the end did come – we made it through. It was probably the hardest thing I and he have ever had to do. Once we were finally reunited the world felt right again.

Looking back I would never have seen myself ending up with Greg. I never saw myself being happy. I know it is cheesy but I really have met my soul mate. We work so well together. We are best friends and partners in love.

[depressionaffects-blog]

His Room 5

   His room spun around me, making me dizzy as I spun faster and faster in his chair trying to understand why he didn’t want to live anymore. Why he felt he wasn't good enough for this world anymore. Why he had looked me straight in the eyes with a hard, cold expression and said, "Forget about me, I'm not worth your love." I had stared back seeing the pain plain in his eyes, too scared to say a word. He left that night, for a walk he said...

       I breathed in shallow breaths choking back tears. I wiped the back of my hand across my cheek, remembering how he used to wipe my tears away and pull me into his chest, making all the pain go away. I ached for his embrace, I felt his rough hand rubbing my back, his deep father like voice soothing me telling me "It will all be okay, the tears aren't worth it, there's no reason to cry Sari." I pressed my nails in deeper to my palm, resisting the urge to scream out, reminding myself of the early hour, cursing my mind for not allowing me to sleep, and fearing the nightmares that waited there. I kept spinning...

 His computer screen flashed quickly by with each rotation blue,

 dark

 blue

 dark

 blue

 dark

         A tear escaped my eye as I let my breath go, into a long painful sob. I bit my lip forcing myself to be quite.

     I remembered how happy he had been the week he built his computer all by himself, how his eyes shone with such pride. How he and dad high fived how excited they had both been. Now dad just sits in his chair, dark circles under his eyes twisting his worry beads around and around from the time he comes home from work to the time he goes to sleep in the wee hours of the morning. I hear him in the next room muttering in his light sleep.

        My stomach turned and my heart sunk deeper as I spun by his dis-guarded Bible, thrown under his desk now covered in a thick layer of dust. I heard whispers of all the fights he and mom had over going to church as a family, and how he never said he didn't believe but he showed it. Mom still hasn't given up.

      I close my eyes letting the tears flow hearing the chorus of “Savior” by Rise Against over and over again in my head. My palm begins to bleed, I can't relax my fist for fear of waking my parents. I can't wake my parents they've been through enough, they don't need to know how deeply I'm hurt. They don't need to know that I saw the signs, heard the tears, saw the cuts and didn't say anything for fear of outing my hero... my hero who I slowly began to lose respect for... my hero who told me he would never leave me, no matter what happened, he promised to stay, but says now he never makes promises and doesn't remember telling me that. They don't need to know how many times he had tried before... and how many times he had written a note but thrown it away; that was my painful secret to keep.

        I shuddered and put my foot out to stop spinning.

        The chair slammed to a stop facing his window, the moon shined in making the tears fallen on my legs glow. His reflection stared back at me, slowly morphing from a grinning boy with, muscular arms, rosy cheeks, bright eyes, fiery red spiky hair, and a physics book in his left hand to a boy with a blank expression, who is too thin, with sallow skin, and dark rings below his sad green eyes, holding a broken up razor in his left hand and a small folded piece of white paper in his right. I wanted to punch right through the evil window for reminding me again.

[depressionaffects-blog]

My Brother’s Story

Sarah’s Story: (Jason)

Jason, my brother, had attempted to jump off a bridge and the police got him before he jumped. He had had eight previous attempts two of which I witnessed when I was 8 and 12 and prevented just by being present – not anything clever.

After his last attempts there was a hurricane of anger, family counseling, marriage counseling, one on one stuff for Jason and a slew of family secrets and painful memories created. On his last attempt I had just turned 15. Since I was only the little sister I was mostly pushed aside, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t affect me at all. I was allowed to attend the family therapy at least. I was kept in the dark but my parents didn’t realize how much I knew about Jason’s depression – I didn’t realize it – I was so naïve, I didn’t understand. After his final attempt I spilled to my parents a few things Jason had told me in confidence that may have contributed to his actions and that may have helped…

I tried to be of as much help as possible but again I was viewed as the little sister – no help at all – but I cooked and cleaned and helped around the house as much as possible and tried to keep everyone in somewhat good spirits.

Part of the reason I was so upset by all this was because I was kept in the dark for so long and on so many things. My parents were trying to protect me by keeping his suicide note from me; it was addressed to me. I understand now what my parents were trying to do. I was so confused that whole time – for two years of my life and my family’s life I was expected to act fine just fine and be a good little sister. I was not fine MY BIG BROTHER HAD ATTEMPTED TO COMMIT SUICIDE. My hero in my then young life wanted to end his life. I had been so involved in his depression – he told me so many things – for the prime reason that I did not understand at the moment and therefore wouldn’t tell our parents. And honestly I did not know what to do. I loved him and I knew he was not okay but I didn’t know how to fix it – I thought he was just sad… I witnessed him counting the pills one by one – how many would it take to not have to take anymore. My parents still don’t know what Jason and I went through – I only told them the necessary details.

After Jason’s last attempt I researched depression and started to understand and I tried to help in every way possible. And on top of all that I was also dealing with being 15 and in high school – life sucked.

I put my feelings aside and did what I could to make life better for my family. Senior year in high school – two years later – I finally made myself face facts and realize what Jason went through. Freshman year here I went to therapy to deal with what I had survived and how to continue to survive. At that point I felt like I had dealt with what happened in our family and I have grown and learned so much since then but it will always be with me. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

History: College

Sarah’s Story:

College:

Freshman year: Major Depressive Episode of 4 to 6 months and 2 suicide attempts, heavy self harm. Went to therapy or a few sessions but didn’t keep with it. Then I was raped by my best friend. 

Sophomore year: Reported rape with other women victimized by same man. He got expelled and we filed restraining orders against him. I shut down and decided that it never happened. Started to date my current fiance but our physical relationship was non existent. It took 6 months for me to let him any further than kissing and even longer for actual intercourse, and even then we stopped often because I would have a flash back and be too shaken to be touched. To this day I still have flash backs during intercourse. I made a pact with my current fiance, Greg, and our friend Nerak to stop self harming. It was difficult to stick to but I did okay sticking with it. I thought I was doing okay but really I was just pushing everything down. I was in what I thought was an upswing but then I went home for the summer and went back down. 

Junior year: That summer I told my parents what had happened freshman year and they flipped and blamed the wrong people. They offered me therapy which I took, and then I went on anti depressants for a year. I let myself numb out all year, my grades fell, my social life felt forced, my only constant was Greg and only him because he was so stubborn and wouldn’t leave, no matter what I did or said. 

Senior year: I stayed the summer at school and ate my way to gaining 30 pounds. Then I got mono in September and turned 21 in November and relapsed into a suicidal depression in January. End of May I forced myself to therapy. 

 Now its July... and I’ve begun self-harming again and feel worse and worse with every passing day. But then sometimes its a perfect day and nothing is wrong at all. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

History: Highschool

I’ve kept this blog to try to inform others about mental illness and how it can affect everyone in some way or another. I want you to listen and realize that depression is not all in your head and suicide is not selfish - its an act of desperation a cry for help. We need to stop feeling guilty for being depressed or suicidal. Its okay to not be okay.

On and off since I was in middle school I have struggled with depression. In college I struggled with depression and anxiety. Recently my anxiety has gotten much worse and is in the extreme levels as is my depression. I gave you a bit of my story in the previous post, here is some of the rest of it.

I was lost. That is what everyone says right... that they were emo or goth or some other stereotype but really it is so easy in high school to get lost and have no idea who you are and for some people - a lot of people - depression as a teenager is real. It is a real feeling and pain. It is not a phase that they will grow out of, that only encourages then to numb out and wait for it to end when it will not end unless they decided to get better or decide to seek help and accept it.

During high school my older brother attempted suicide and was committed to the hospital and my parents went insane with the therapy and fights and medicines. I did not know what to make of what happened. My brother was my hero... I did not understand at all. After what happened with Jason I did not want to come clean to my parents about how I was feeling. So I kept my thoughts to myself, hid my cuts, and adapted the catch phrase “I’m fine...”. When really I was getting worse and worse those two years after Jason’s attempt. My whole world had turned upside down and I was completely lost and alone.

High school was a mess of confused crushes, embarrassments, failing at math, destroying my self confidence in dance classes, fighting with my mom, dealing with my mom’s cancer, trying to take care of everyone else through her illness and then Jason’s attempt and depression. 

I spent the time I had left until college crying for no reason, lying to my mom about the bloody razors, not eating anything, then eating too much, loathing myself, writing pages and pages of how much I hated life but I couldn’t do anything because I couldn’t put my parents through what Jason did again. But I so badly wanted it to end. The only thing keeping me going was the thought of college and having a chance to experience things anew and find a shred of happiness. I was very very unhealthy. 

Once I did make it to college... it just got worse. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

Silence (Silence, #1)

For eleven years, Oakley Farrell has been silent. At the age of five, she stopped talking, and no one seems to know why. Refusing to comm...

This book Silence by Natasha Preston and its sequel  deal with heavy material but are an amazing read. The author has some very helpful insights and a unique perspective to tell this story from. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

Giant Relaspe

I have to say this... I realize that this blog is taking  a more personal turn but I truly believe by telling my personal story I can hopefully reach others who are in pain and unable to understand or to get proper help. 

Last night I committed self harm for the first time in four years. I had suicidal thoughts all day - all I could think about was how many pills I could take and of what kind to insure death. I researched and hoped... 

When I got home I went straight to the medicine cabinet and starting crushing up the Lexapro I had left over from a year ago... I just crushed it all and flushed it. I succeeded in not taking any. But my old razor was also in the medicine cabinet... and I had one of the strongest urges yet to use it... so I did. And  I broke a promise I had made to my significant other that I wouldn’t cut - I kept it for four years... but things just seemed so bad. 

I confessed everything to my significant other and I have a therapy appointment tomorrow... so I will get through this. I have to. 

Stay strong my friends. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

The Most Ridiculous Things People With Invisible Illness Hear

Here's what you can say instead.

[depressionaffects-blog]

How to Date a Girl with a Self-Harming Past

Don't trivialize it as some emotional female thing or regard her as a dramatic teenager because of the media's portrayal of it or some preconceived notion.

No one is perfect - we all struggle. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

This project has a really positive and inspiring message. You can choose to keep going, you have a choice even when it doesn’t feel like it. You always have a choice. <3

[depressionaffects-blog]

Starting Again...

Hello all, 

I has been a bit since I’ve written to you or been active on here. I’ve recently taken a bit of a dive off the deep end. In March I starting having rather serious anxiety attacks, at the time I did not understand what was happening. I had heard of people experiencing them and using different coping mechanisms bu for some reason I was unable to make the connection. During this same time I was in recovery from mono so I figure that the racing heart and cold sweats and feelings of suffocating or feelings of pressure on my chest were all due to the mono. In conjunction with this I was in a deep depression. On and off my whole life I’ve experienced bouts of depression, differing in severity. But this time was the worst yet. I was suicidal every single day. I pushed everyone away. I closed myself in. I bucked down to finish school, ignored the world, ate twice as much as I should, hated people who were excited about graduation, and hated people in general - especially if they seemed happy. I could not imagine a bright future for myself, let alone a future at all. 

With graduation looming ahead my depression worsen and my self esteem plummeted. I hated myself, felt useless, and the old coping mechanisms were not working anymore, so a month after graduation and after moving to a new city I finally got up courage to go to therapy. I am still in therapy and it is helping but I also am realizing that I really haven't dealt with my issues. I went through the motions of healing and didn’t actually heal. I just did what everybody wanted me to do to get them off my back. When everything happened. I took the  medicine they prescribed me I told the therapist what he wanted to hear. I told my story over and over again. But I never healed I just pushed it down and let the medicine numb me out. 

But now I am trying to take care of myself, and lessen my negative self talk, and negative thoughts/judgments and to try to believe that I am worth it... that I matter. 

I still flip flop between wanting to numb out and wanting to be present but at least being aware is good. Numbing out feels like it would be a paradise but that isn’t what I need. What I need is to heal and to heal I have to deal with the things I don’t to. So it is okay to get angry and cry and mess up because at least I am trying. 

I often feel like there are two of me, one wanting to finish me off for good and another observing the other screaming that there is a hopeful future and that I just have to get through yet another thing... Life feels like a lot of “getting through it” and “its only for a short time” or “it will be worth it in the end”... when can I just enjoy something... 

[depressionaffects-blog]

Be as gentle with yourself as you are with your friends.

unknown

[dykedacus]

TMI TAG

[depressionaffects-blog]

Project Semicolon | projectsemicolon.com

Project Semicolon is a faith-based non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and love to those who struggle with depression, self-injury, and suicide.

This is a movement that started back in 2013. It has recently resurfaced and has had a lot of positive influence! When it first came about I drew a sharpie semi-colon on my wrist every week. I needed a reminder that I can choose to keep going... that I do not have to end my life to end my suffering. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

7 Cups of Tea Turns Two

Here's how the @7_Cups_of_Tea community made the world a better place over the past year! #7Cups #7CupsTurns2

This conversation line is really helpful. It is not like going to the therapist, it is like talking to a really good friend. 

[depressionaffects-blog]

Penzu is a free online diary and personal journal focused on privacy. Easily keep a secret diary or a private journal of notes and ideas securely on the web.

This is a great online journal - you can use it on your phone too! I really like it because if I feel like I need to write something down or get a negative thought out of your head when you are not at home or near a computer. It is completely private and easy to use. It is hard to customize too much with out paying but with the free account you have a clean and inviting place to write and you can access the phone app for free now.