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Penn State University.
Home to the craziest sorority girls, most obnoxious football players, and a girl who never wanted to be there in the first place.
Ellie Webber hates Penn State. But she is only there because her twin brother is the...
CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER PLEASE READ SOURCES BELOW IF YOU NEED TO SEEK HELP. PLEASE DO NOT BE ASHAMED TO REACH OUT. I LOVE YOU. WE ALL LOVE YOU.
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Ellie Webber
Nobody ever talks about how hard healing truly is.
Is it because we are ashamed of all of the withdrawals that came along with trying to heal? Is it because we relapse? Is it because we tell the people who are around us and who are the most supportive that we are doing better when truly; you have never fucking felt worse in your entire life?
Is it because you've exhausted every option that you thought would work and it didn't? Is it because you got tired of fighting? Truly– why doesn't anyone talk about how fucking hard healing is?
In my opinion, there are five steps to healing.
There's admittance.
There's denial.
Then there's consequence and realization.
Admittance is when you recognize that you need to give up whatever you need to be healed from. Denial is when people start to see why you need to be healed. And then there's consequence and realization.
Consequence and realization happen whenever you recognize that you should have never let something get this bad– you should have never had to go through the other two steps to get here. How could you even deny something that you would admit to yourself?
I wonder– I truly wonder that if someone had taken the time out of their day to ask me why I was doing what I was doing before I tried to kill myself– that I wouldn't have attempted it. The worst part of consequence and realization is noticing how many clues you left, how many trails that someone could have tracked– but they didn't notice.
The worst part about asking for help though is the fact that you feel like people may think you have done it for attention. I've had the words 'attention whore' muttered to me one too many times in high school for me to ever actually reach out to someone in college for help.
I just wanted to fit in.
But with admittance and denial comes consequence and realization.
My eyes flew up to the doctor that was walking toward us. He had a smile on his face.
