In order to move
forward it is necessary to honestly assess where you are now and where you’ve
been. In the space provided below, describe what has been happening in the past
6 months that led to your admission to Day Treatment. Focus on your behavior,
how you’ve been feeling and how you’ve been handling the problem.
The past six months have been a roller coaster ride. Almost six months ago
exactly I ended therapy with my primary therapist. I was doing extremely well
and ready to handle things on my own. For the first month I did well, things
came up, but I handled them like a healthy person would. In June I did go manic
for a time because I stopped medication. I recognized the mania and began
medication again. This time I took them every day as prescribed and was doing
great on them. Major things came and went and I dealt with them in healthy ways.
At the beginning of the school year I showed the first cracks in my armor. I
felt anxiety ridden and agitation was ruling my life. For the first time in my
life, I called up my psychiatrist and asked to be seen sooner. I had an
appointment the next day. He upped my Seroquel from 50mg to 400mg. The
difference was incredible- it’s like my whole world opened up. This was in
August- again I was taking meds perfectly- and my mood was stable. It was
wonderful.
In September things were still going fairly well, meds perfect etc. I was
contacted by ABC to do a news report for World News Tonight. During the
interview, they asked me to describe my freshman year when depression really hit
me. They wanted to interview me because I could really describe depression well
and was very articulate about what it felt like to be in a depression. I was
excited during this time.
However…I did not address my feelings. I never thought to check myself- because
it was hard remembering back to that time. I didn’t acknowledge the hurt. Nor
did I acknowledge the hurt my family caused me. Their reaction to the interview
was not one of being proud, but one of thinking how they can hide the
interview, or twist it somehow to their friends. That hurt, but I ignored it.
Just thought of this as another opportunity to teach them, even when they were
not willing students.
Then a week later, I was asked to do another interview- on self injury and in
Richmond- my families home base. I did this interview without thinking- super
excited to be educating people on self injury, especially in the place I began
to self injure. Everyone I knew was proud of me, and I was happy, or so I
thought. Again, I did not deal with the pain I felt…remembering back to being 17
years old…and the pain and hurt I felt that first night of self injuring…and
what that later led to. Didn’t think once about that.
But pain did come. My mother said that if that report aired in the Richmond area
that she wanted me to come home and get my stuff and NEVER come home again. When
I heard that…it about killed me. I felt pain. But I used my support system- I
talked about it a ton…to friends, to mentors, and even called my old counselor
to talk about it. I decided to let it air, because that was who I was- I was
standing up and being an advocate, despite the consequences. And I made the hurt
stop. Then I called my Mom…she said she had no memory of making that threat. I
talked to her for an hour and a half…and not once did she seem to regret what
she said…hiding behind the fact that she doesn’t remember it…and she figured I
knew she didn’t mean it. I tried to tell her the pain I was in for that week,
and she couldn’t comprehend. That phone call hurt. Her acting like nothing was
wrong hurt. I realized finally she was indeed narcissistic. And I buried the
hurt. I talked about it some, then I was done with it.
Then…the last month or so led to here. I stopped some of my meds- I was
inconsistent with Lithium, until I ran out period and was out of money. I went
Manic, very manic. I was a speaker at a conference, I ran my club on campus, I
did the stuff with the kids with autism, I had the online support group and
website…and I had my school work. I threw myself into everything- I became the
golden child of mental illness- someone who had beaten the odds and was now
teaching others and becoming a well known advocate. I spent three days without
sleep before I stopped it. Then two days later, I didn’t sleep again. Sleep
suddenly became less of a need. I need to do more…I was running on 120%, but
good things were happening, so I kept going. I never suspected that I was
running from pain. I was dealing with my mom, acting like her- like nothing huge
happened.
Then I fell. My mind became darker as thoughts of suicide floated through. I
went through every day with violent images in my head- of shooting myself,
hanging myself, cutting, driving a car into a tree. Thoughts of self doubt also
seeped in. I thought I wasn’t good enough again. I had to do more, to prove my
worth. I had to do more to hide the pain waiting for me.
Then one day I woke up and had enough. I had suicidal ideation, but no intent to
die. But I scared myself, because I knew if I had a gun…it might land next to my
head. Those kind of thoughts scared the shit out of me. I was seeing a counselor
at a sexual abuse support place, but we only dealt with sexual abuse. It wasn’t
enough, she didn’t know me well enough to ask the right questions when it came
to the rest of me. I didn’t want to see Kiandra, because I thought I’d be a
failure honestly. She let me go to live the rest of my life…and I wanted to live
it in a healthy way, I wanted to be okay for the rest of my life.
But, then I realized…not getting help was hurting me more. I talked to my mentor
who has known me the longest…and we knew it was time for Snowden, to get
treatment going and to get stabilized. I had already self injured once. The
injury kept the pain away. I finally realized that…through everything I was
doing…I was losing myself fast. I felt I had lost myself…who I was inside. I had
stopped doing the things really fun (like music) and was isolating. I let my
appetite go. I let sleep go. I let meds go. I let control go. Once I was on the
downward spiral, old habits resurfaced. I thought that it was easier to just
stay in the dark again. When sadness would arise, I used self injury to keep it
away. I didn’t know what to do with the pain, so I hid from it.
Bernie was right on Friday…about what I need to do, finally. I never did grieve
in the ways I needed. I never cried much. I cried on the phone with my mom…but
before that the tears didn’t really fall. I do need to cry…even in front of the
group. I need to get sad. I need to grieve my losses. My mother, my childhood,
time, my past, of the other members of my family, of my innocence, and a normal
life. This all hurts so much- cuts like a knife in my heart. And yet when I talk
to people about it- I hide behind my knowledge. I hide behind a façade- a well
put together person who does great things. But where is the little girl that
hurts so much- for a mother she’ll never have. I wrote a letter to my little
girl inside and that helped so much- but I now realize that was not all I needed
to write about. When I wrote all of those letters- it was to let go of the blame
and the shame that I used to have. Blame and shame is what drove my unhealthy
self for quite some time. Kiandra remarked that I seem to heal very fast once I
get a handle on something. I got a handle on the blame and the shame and the
feelings of helplessness and powerlessness as a child- and was better. I was
better for at least 15 months. Taking care of those feelings within me allowed
such well times. But…healing is a process not a destination. Now…now I need to
grieve. I need to feel sad- let sadness take over and break me down. I need to
feel it, understand it, cry about it…and then let go. I do have a restless pain
inside me, and I need to deal with it, grieve etc…but most of all, feel the
sadness instead of running away from it or hiding behind something.
I am now out of denial- I get it now. I won’t self injure, because I realize now
why I was using it. I know I can use other coping mechanisms- I have a lot at my
disposal. I just decided for three nights that I was going to self injure
because somehow that worked best. It didn’t…it only served to hide me from my
pain. Pain that I need to face now. I realize that I had the power not to let go
of my self care. But instead, I actively made bad decisions.
I actively made bad decisions- that was a hard one to choke down. But I did not
need anyone to kick my ass about that- I realized it on my own. I was in denial,
I sunk to the helplessness…only because my pain was so great and so
unrecognized…I feared what feeling it would do to me. I was afraid again. But I
dove into my work- all of my work- bad decisions and all, because I felt the
pain was too great to deal with and I thought it would just go away. But it
didn’t. And I think that is when my downfall began.
I know what is in my power to do to remain well and I’m re-committing myself to
doing them. And, I am ready to face my pain. Saying it is one thing, doing is
another- I understand that. But it’s a big step just for me to say it. Now I’m
ready to work on the action part.
The staff and group members are working hard to help me, and last week I
wouldn’t help myself. That changes today. I begin to help myself again. This is
my life, and I need to take control again. I can't keep the pain in forever.
For once in my life, I'm telling myself that it is okay to cry. I'm tired of
hurting and I'm ready to begin the process of letting go, no longer how long it
takes. I'm ready.
And that is why today my feelings are hopeful and determined. It's time.