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The Fight for My Life
I was standing in front of the mirror, tears running down my face, blood running into the sink, wishing for my life to be over. I made sure the door was locked before I got into the bathtub almost full with water. As I sat down in the bathtub I remember thinking that this wasn’t normal for a thirteen year old girl, I remember thinking about how I hate myself, that I wasn’t worth anything and that my family and friends lives would be better if I wasn’t there to complicate it. No one should ever feel the way I felt, I wouldn’t even wish it on my worst enemy. I was thinking to myself what happened to me? How did I become like this? Perhaps it’s because kids were mean to me and I felt like I didn’t fit in, I started hating school and wanted to be home schooled. My mother of course hated seeing me upset every day and she decided she didn’t want that for me, so she started home schooling me. And somehow I became a depressed child who hated herself. Maybe it had something to do with I never did my homework and would just sleep all day and would lie to my mom about doing my work.
As I got older I got “prettier” so all those kids who called me ugly started calling me pretty and I thought they were lying to me and making fun of me behind my back. Do you know how it feels to look in the mirror and hate everything you see? Telling yourself that you’re worthless, ugly, “fat”, too “skinny”, ugly teeth, just plain gross and that no one wants you. What’s even worse is not telling anyone that’s how you feel, holding in all those emotions is so hard on anyone, but a thirteen-year-old girl who doesn’t even know who she is, that ate me away, I told everyone I was fine my parents always asked me if I was okay and I didn’t want to bother them so of course id lie to them.
The summer going into freshman year I started partying not thinking it was impact my life like it did. Drinking made me feel the feelings I couldn’t feel when I was sober, I’d never felt that way, I was happy or that’s what I thought anyway, so getting drunk and high became a normal thing for me, it made me happy. But it got way out of hand, I got way more depressed after I started drinking and I “needed” it to make me happy, well that and my dad had lost his job and didn’t get another one for around six months, and he had to move, to Alaska like out of all the places in Alaska it just had to be an island.
I was a pain to my mom we were always fighting and it was always my fault because I didn’t care about anything, I almost beat up my mom, I wasn’t myself. The summer going into tenth grade I was partying almost every night, it was insane I’ve almost went home in the back of a cop car multiple times, but good thing it’s only happened once. I don’t remember the first time I self-harmed but I remember how it felt, it felt like pressure got released from my body, then I became addicted to it, the way it made me feel batter, it hard to explain to people who’ve never done it, it hurts at first and it burns but it take your mind off the pain you feel in your head and you focus on your physical pain. There is something about the way it burns and the blood beads up that makes you love it. After a while it doesn’t hurt I remember always watching the blood run down my legs well I was standing in the shower the water turning red, I know I sound crazy and trust me I am.
Tenth grade year was my first year back at school since third grade, I was going to school in Minnesota for the first two months but some bad things happened, there was this boy, he was a “cowboy” he started talking to me, he was new to my school so I was being nice and I ended up falling for him, He ended up taking my virginity and then leaving me three days later, after he told me that he wanted to be with me for a long time and that he wanted to “love” me, basically just a bunch of lies. I didn’t tell anyone we had sex because he told me not to and that I had to wait till we were official, he told me during lunch in the cafeteria that he was done with me, I ran into the bathroom crying my friends Theresa and Chyanne came into the bath room they asked me what was wrong, I told them they hugged me and told me everything would be okay. We went to find Brittni I couldn’t tell her why I was crying because I thought she would be mad so Theresa told her. Brittni looked at me and told me she wasn’t mad and that she loved me, she started crying and hugged me we sat in the hallway crying for a while. After that happened I hated myself even more, I thought I wasn’t good enough for anyone, my self-esteem got way worse than it already was. I felt violated, but then I thought maybe I deserved it.
I moved to Unalaska, Alaska, this is where my story really begins. After moving here I got more depressed than I already was and part of the reason was I was lacking vitamin D, and my anti-depressants weren’t right for me. When I moved here I met some of the best people that are in my life, still to this day. I met this boy, we’ll call him “mark” after a while of me and mark talking, I fell in love with him, and honestly I still am. People say your first love never goes away, he told me he will always love me and I know that’s true. Even though we didn’t work out I know he’ll always be there for me when I need him. It was my fault we didn’t work out, I became a totally different person than I was when I first moved here. I started drinking every day after school and I was always high when I went home, most of the time I would drink till I couldn’t drink anymore. I went home drunk all the time I just played it off so my dad wouldn’t notice, right when I got home id get into the shower because honestly id usually have puke all over me. I became mean, distant, started caring less and less, all I wanted was to be happy the only times I was happy was when I was sleeping, drinking or getting high. And mark hated that he tried to help me but I just pushed him away even though I loved him, he gave me chances and I messed them up. I hated the fact that I hurt him, he broke my heart because he left when I needed him the most. I know he still cares about me but he can’t take it anymore.
I almost failed sophomore year, I was failing all my classes but I didn’t care, at all. Looking back at it now I can’t believe this was my life at fifteen, I should’ve been having a great time, I should’ve been happier than I was because I had “no reason” to be sad but I learned that it’s not my fault I was born with this horrible disease called depression. I remember the night I tried to end it all, the very last time I will ever try to kill myself again. It was March 14th 2015, a Sunday night I had school the next day. I remember feeling so sad, a sad I had never felt before it was like I was even more empty than I already was like I was only half full before and someone knocked me over and spilled the rest out of me. I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I went into the kitchen and got my pill bottle full of my anti-depressants got a glass of water and sat on my bed. I put those on my night stand next to my bed and I went into the bathroom and got a razor from the cabinet under the sink and was looking for the scissors but I couldn’t find them so I found the nail clippers and started taking the blade out of the razor, being quit so I didn’t wake up my dad who’s room is right a crossed from the bathroom and right next to mine. I was crying so hard but I had to be quit I remember looking at the counter and seeing a puddle of my tears, I wiped them away with a towel.
I finally got the blade out of the razor, I hadn’t hurt myself in a few weeks and I was proud of myself but I couldn’t take it anymore I was done. I took that blade and pressed it into my wrist then slid it all the way over, it was deep the blood didn’t bead up it just started pouring into the sink and down my arm, I went back into my room picked up the bottle of pills and took hand full after hand full. I had cut my arm many more times till I didn’t have another place to cut on my inner arm, it was covered in dripping in blood, After I did that I was scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen, I texted my friend Kenzie back in Minnesota and told her what I did, of course she freaked out and told me to send her a picture of my arm because there was nothing she could do about the pills because I had already taken them. I sent her a picture and she freaked out because there was a lot of blood, told me to get a warm washcloth and put it on my arm, so I did and she told me to throw up the pills but I couldn’t, I wanted to die.
I told her I was going to bed and that I felt fine, I didn’t feel fine, my head and my stomach hurt. I got off my bed and but on my sweatpants and a sweatshirt so if I did wake up in the morning my dad wouldn’t see my cuts. I didn’t fall asleep for a few hours, laying in the dark alone with my thoughts, all I could think about was how I didn’t want to be alive in the morning. My dad came into my room and woke me up for school, I remember right when I woke up I got this overwhelming feeling of dread, and sadness, I started crying right after that all hit me, and I wouldn’t get out of bed.
My dad didn’t understand what was going on, so he got angry because he thought I just didn’t want to go to school, he started yelling and dragged me out of bed. I just sat on the floor and cried, I couldn’t get up and get ready, I tried but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. My dad didn’t understand what was wrong so he got mad at me, he went to go get my pills and couldn’t find them, he asked me where they were and I just pretended like I didn’t know. He figured it out and asked me if I took them all, I didn’t say anything so he knew. He grabbed my arm and was trying to see if I had cut myself again, I did. My dad looked at me with tears in his eyes (first time I’d ever seen him cry) and asked me why, I remember him saying “why, sweat pea” that’s what he calls me. I laid in my bed and didn’t answer, he laid next to me and rubbed my back and told me everything was going to be okay. At that moment I knew everything was going to be okay. I went to the clinic and told my therapist what I had done, she asked me if I wanted help, I looked at my dad and saw him crying. I knew I had to get better for him, he told me that if I died he wouldn’t know what to do. He told me that I had to get better, no matter what it takes because he couldn’t lose me. March 14th is the day I tried to commit suicide that is the day I flew to anchorage and left this island only telling a few people where I was going. Later that night I went to a hospital (I don’t remember what it was called) I waited in this crowded room with at least 60 other people.
My dad checked me in and a few hours later I was finally getting into the room I was going to before I went to North Star. They had me change into hospital clothes, I had a scrub shirt on and they let me keep my sweatpants, well I was changing I was using my phone for the last time before they locked it away. the nurses made me stand pretty much naked so she could look at my body to make sure I didn’t have cuts anywhere else, I felt uncomfortable, but I knew I had to or they’d hold me down and look. I got questioned by at least 8 different nurses/doctors asking the same questions, I got really annoyed. I was in the suicide room, it has cameras, a big window that faced the hallway, and I remember watching the nurses walk past. The only thing I had in the room was a bed, table and a piece of paper that told you about hospital. I was in there for 5 hours, (I was supposed to be in there for a week) I remember crying because I was so scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen, I tried to sleep but I couldn’t. After I was in there for about 3 hours they let my dad go in the room with me.
A nurses came into the room and said that north star was ready for me, she asked my dad to go to north star and fill out papers, my dad gave me a kiss and told me he loved me and that he would see me there. My dad is my hero, he helps me through a lot, I remember asking if I could drive with him, he said no that I have to go with the doctors. I felt so scared, the doctor came and got me and told me to go with this lady that she’s going to take me to north star, I followed the lady to the garage thing. There was a black car in it, she asked me if she opened the garage door if I was going to run and if I needed hand cuffs, I stopped and thought about it then I laughed and was like no? She laughed and opened the garage door then opened the back car door I got in, it was like a cop car, there was a medal ring on the seat in front of me for hand cuffs, I was in a cadge in away. Grates on the windows and there was a cadge separator in between me and the driver. I remember wanting to cry but I needed to be strong, I was holding back tears and then the driver lady started talking to me asking me questions about my life, how many siblings I had and such. She made me feel better she told me about her life and siblings, she was so sweet to me I think it’s because she knew I was scared.
We got to north star before my dad did the lady let me out of the car, we went inside and I sat in the lobby with me teddy bear that my dad gave me when I first moved to Alaska and my blanket that my mom gave me back in Minnesota. My dad finally got there and one of the staff brought us into a back room and asked a lot of questions and made my dad fill out so many papers. I could feel my stomach turning, I had butterflies but I’d never felt theses kind of butterflies before, it was like a storm was going on in my stomach, I felt sick. When the paper work was done the staff left me and my dad alone for around 5 minutes so we could say goodbye, he cried and told me loved me and that it was going to be okay and that I was going to get better and told me he loved me and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
The staff came and got me and brought me to my “station” it smelled like a hospital and was kind of creepy and darkish, there was 3 stations, jade, copper, and glacier. When I got up there they had a doctor look at me and then they made me take a shower, and they gave me scrubs, the shirt was XL and the pants were XXL and they gave me a sports bra that was a L and underwear that was a XL because that’s all they had but one of the nice staff let me keep on the underwear and sports bra I already had on from home. After I showered they showed me my room there were two other girls in there asleep. There were three beds, mine was by the window, the window was blurry you couldn’t see out of it but the moon light came through, there was a bathroom and everyone had a desk and a wooden closet.
I got into my bed around 1:30 am, the bed had a wooden base and was bolted to the floor, everything was, the mattress was so thin and uncomfortable, they let me keep my blanket and teddy bear so I cuddled with those and cried myself to sleep, I felt so guilty. I remember thinking “why did I do that, other people have it worse” now that I think about it I had no real reason to do that other than it was me against myself, I over thought everything, I was my own worst enemy. I used to blame myself and tell myself it was my fault but now I know it was not my fault depression is a serious disease, it’s a brain defeasance, the happiest person can get it at any time.
I woke up to someone saying good morning jade! Wake up! They turned on the lights, I remember seeing a tall skinny dark haired man, he asked me what my name was and how old I was and that kind of stuff, he got my suitcases and he let me pick out the clothes I wanted. Nothing could have zippers and they had to take the underwire out of your bras, you couldn’t have a belt or anything that could be used to harm yourself or others. I couldn’t leave the unit because I hadn’t seen the doctor yet, the girls went down to breakfast when they came back that’s when I met Zoe, she is one of the sweetest girls I’ve ever met she became one of my good friends. I had to leave jade and go to glacier it was a crossed the hall and me and Zoe would talk through the windows. There was a quit room in between the two units, the quit room was a brick room with windows and two little cells and a bath room were in there. I also met Kailee and ruby, I still talk to them, they are honestly, what got me through being in there or I would’ve went crazy.
The food was gross and hard, we would Frisbee throw them at other tables. My favorite staff was Chris we called him “black Chris” for obvious reasons, he taught me it is okay too not be okay. Somehow, he got to me; he got me to believe in myself. We had a saying on glacier “winners don’t try, however it’s okay to cry” and it means that when life it is going good there is no need to cry but when life isn’t being good it’s okay to cry even though your life is good.
I spent 52 days in North Star, I learned a lot and honestly, I wouldn’t take it back because it made me a better person it made me realize that I am who I am supposed to be and that I shouldn’t change for anyone but myself.
People do not choose to be depressed, but they do make a choice about how to deal with it, I would change everything if I could go back in time, I would not put myself through that again, I would not even wish that upon my worst enemy. No one should feel like they’re in a box suffocating. I couldn’t help myself on my own my mind was too far gone.
You know how when you see a beautiful flower dying you feel like it’s sort of tragic, the world is losing something beautiful, that’s what depression is like but from the inside out. It’s tragic when young beautiful girls feel dead on the inside. At first I didn’t notice I was becoming depressed but then all of a sudden it hit me, I no longer saw the same things everyone else saw, colors weren’t as bright anymore, I didn’t find nature beautiful like I did when I was younger, the trees weren’t as green and the sky wasn’t blue I no longer saw shapes in the clouds, my imagination was gone and I was full of darkness that slowly took over, I stopped going on adventures through the woods finding a perfect tree to sit under and document what I had thought of well exploring or finding somewhere peaceful to read. when you become depressed it almost feels like your childlikeness has gone away. You no longer find joy in the little things
This was my fight for my life.
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this is my story of the fight for my life. this isnt my whole story but its a start.