Self Harm Essay

"I'm Fine..."

My life presented a challenge to me in my Sophomore Year. Ever since I had started school, I had a lot of trouble with bullying, but it was never threatening to my health until my sophomore year. I could never defend myself effectively and as a result, I became over sensitive to everything. Over time, this became worse and I unfortunately became dependent and addicted to cutting myself whenever I felt upset. The smallest trigger would lead me to do this. This addiction became extremely difficult to overcome, no matter what methods I used to try and break it. Suicidal thoughts began to leak in as the problem escalated. In my sophomore year, I just couldn't keep it in anymore, I wanted help, and I expressed it in a bad way. I began to act out against my mother on purpose to annoy her because I felt she wasn't doing her job as a mother. This bad behavior transferred to school and at one point, I was referred to the school's dean. She has known my family and I for quite some time so not only did she discipline me for my actions, but she also dug deeper. She knew something more was wrong with me, something I didn't see at that moment. She noticed I had long sleeves when it was blazing hot outside, something my family and friends overlooked. She asked me to roll them up, and at first I refused and she automatically knew why. She called the deputy of the school and my mother. Shortly after the deputy examined what was happening, he baker acted me and I was sent to Park Place for 72 hour mental evaluation and rehabilitation. There, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, also known as clinical depression, General Anxiety Disorder and Bipolar Disorder; three mental illness I would have never thought to be the cause of my weakness. I was placed on medication for the depression and the bipolar diagnosis, however it failed. The medications created a larger chemical imbalance in my brain and instead of improving my condition, worsened it. I began overly aggressive and acted like a hermit. My mother took me off the medication slowly to reverse the effects and let my brain rebalance. However, the depression stayed through that whole mess. My mother decided to withdraw me from my high school and place me as a full time virtual student. My grades improved and my study skills were strengthened. I suddenly did not dread school anymore, and began to enjoy it. At this point, the depression of dealing with horrible people at school and feeling so rejected and unwelcomed subsided, with the rise of another cause for my depression. Loneliness. I did not want to be alone, but I did not want to be surrounded by terrible people. My depression began riding a see-saw, missing being at a physical school, but wanting to stay clear from it at the same time. My condition continued to get worse, and I ended up cutting after trying so hard not to. This time, I had cut my thighs so my mother wouldn't see, but I ended up hitting my thigh on the corner of a table the next day and my overreaction to the pain caused my mother to check the area. She had me taken back to Park Place. This time, I met someone who changed my view of life. The nurse in charge of me gave me a speech about how valuable my life was, how much I should appreciate those who do love me, and ignore those who hurt me. She told me that I needed to learn to stand strong on my own, that I needed to learn not to be dependent on others approval to create my happiness. She opened my eyes to something I had never thought of before, and it was what I needed to overcome this illness. The only way to fight the illness was to prove I was bigger than it. Upon leaving Park Place this time around, I was recommended to attend therapy. I took it because I thought it would indeed help me. I learned within 4 visits that it was not for me. having to go back to Park Place even as an outpatient was triggering. I could not stand to be in the building or anywhere near it. I had to withdraw from the sessions, another fail in my journey. Time passed and I finished my tenth grade year online, all the while I was healing slowing from the traumatic experiences of that year.

            When the start of my Junior year got closer, my mother made the decision to re-enroll me at my normal high school. This brought extreme anxiety upon me, and I cried every night before the first day of school. I was terrified. All the healing I had done was suddenly ripped apart because she had made a decision without my consent, without discussing if I was even well enough to handle the idea. The anxiety got so bad, I went as far as attempted suicide. (while this was not the only cause of pushing me to this limit, it contributed the most.) Every other day, I would swallow 8-10 painkillers at once. It caused incredible stomach pains the following day. Eventually, I swallowed almost 35-40 painkillers on an empty stomach. I told my mother that I did and she did not believe me until my body began to shut down. I threw up pure hydrochloric acid and was becoming lightheaded and pale. She finally took me to the hospital after witnessing this. In my head I didn't want her to, I in fact, wanted to die. I wanted to escape the pain I was feeling, I wanted it to go away so badly. But as a minor I had no say, and was too weak to fight it anyway. I was labeled as a baker act and had a nurse watching me 24/7. At the hospital, they admitted me and began reversing the effects of the medication.  Once discharged from the hospital, I was admitted into Lakeside, another rehabilitation center. I was once again told I had depression. I felt hopeless, hearing multiple doctors tell me the same thing over and over. I felt as though I was placed back into the rut I had made for myself that I was trying so desperately to escape. The summer passed with no further incident.

On the first day back at school, I was so horrified I hardly looked up at my new teachers. I hardly spoke a word. I developed a form of social anxiety, but this would all subside after I meet someone who is still important to my life today. My former intensive reading teacher can safely say she literally saved my life. She gave me what I really needed – sympathy. A woman with her own struggles of depression, and who was able to tell me her story, her journey of beginning a healthy life. She gave me two books that helped to overcome the self-injury I was doing. Since then I have never cut again. I have learned to erase the feeling by helping others. The dark cloud the weighed me so heavily was lifted, as she became my therapist, one that listened to help, not for money. The connection I have with this teacher will never be forgotten and I hope she never forgets the amazing impact she has made in my life. I realized that she had inspired me to pursue interest in community service. I wanted to help others in any way that I can, and hopefully one day help someone in the same way she helped me.

Learning how to disconnect myself from the overpowering sadness that I felt helped me in all areas of my life. Learning to control the feeling and conquer it helped me to ditch all the fake friends I had around me, and focus on the people who really cared for me and really were willing to help me. I reconnected with my family, who I thought to have been the enemy before. I realized what it means to be truly happy and how to keep the feeling alive. Having depression is incredibly draining, but having the right people in your life can help you gain strength.