(disclaimer: this post is not meant to put blame for what I went through. It’s meant to share my piece of my story and I own it all. I have an amazing family and wonderful support system.)
I’m going to tell you all something I’ve never told a soul. Why? Because maybe it will help someone. And honestly, I feel strong enough to tell it finally.
I used to hate myself. I hated myself so much I didn’t want to live. So much so my mom had me hospitalized after I refused to eat for 3 days and found me crying on the floor of my bathroom with a kitchen knife after school one day.
Why talk about it now?
Because it’s part of my story. A really dark part. I used to feel ashamed of it. I used to hide it away and try to forget it.
It hurts me looking back knowing now that it wasn’t my fault. Mental illness runs rampant in my family. Not that that is the only reason I was depressed. I wasn’t given the tools I needed to understand or cope with my feelings before it got to this point. I was a ticking time bomb of instability labeled as a “moody teenager who didn’t like being chubby.” I felt completely crazy because “girls with so much opportunity shouldn’t be so angry at the world” but I wasn’t angry at the world. I wasn’t in control of my world. It was spinning and I couldn’t see straight.
[Tweet “I wasn’t angry at the world. I wasn’t in control of my world. It was spinning and I couldn’t see straight.”]
Even after I was hospitalized and sent home 3 days later, it wasn’t spoken of. I felt shame for how I felt. I felt shame for something I couldn’t control.
It took my aunt taking her own life 5 years later for anyone in my family to take mental health seriously.
I no longer feel depressed, yet I am aware of it when it does come. I see a counselor regularly for not only anxiety but just for my own mental health well being. I treat my mental health just like I treat my physical health.
Why am I telling you this?
Because I am not ashamed of it anymore. I have learned that just like your body heals, so does your mind- if you treat it right. Mental illness isn’t something that needs to be hidden in dark corners. It’s present in people you know in your everyday life. People who you look up to. People you wouldn’t imagine. And it’s hard and scary and lonely if you go through it alone.
With PCOS comes an increased occurrence of anxiety and depression. I urge you, if you are struggling-seek help. If you have overcome or are facing mental health issues, share your story. Because it’s not shameful to be going through it. What’s shameful is making people feel like they are less than because of it.
Originally posted 2016-06-12 11:51:11.