It was brought to my attention recently that my About Me page was a bit outdated. Crazy how much you can change in seven short months. Rather than putting all my effort into a few meaningless changes, I think it may be more beneficial to take this time to really embrace the spirit of this blog. So, this will be me really opening up about how my depression steered me to this point. For the time being I’m leaving behind the metaphors, and vague illusions to tragedy, in order to really talk about how I came to start writing.
Writing about myself in a straightforward manner can be a bit challenging. It can be hard to discern what’s worth mentioning when you perpetually question your own self worth. As many of you have surmised , I suffer from depression and anxiety. Over time these two conditions have spiraled out of control, resulting in the worst year of my life, topped off by a failed suicide attempt. Over the past seven months I’ve received help coming to terms with my disease, and yet it still feels wrong to simply say what has happened. Even now, the reality of my suicide attempt seems like an ugly truth better left in the dark.
Ugly truths were some of the driving forces behind this blog. While at my lowest, I craved someone to talk to, but often struggled to reach out to those around me, and so instead of attempting to bridge the seemingly endless gap between myself and the rest of the world… I wrote. Those pieces of writing held all of the things that I couldn’t say to another person, and with each word I temporarily calmed the maelstrom of negativity in my head, but it wasn’t enough to make the hurt go away. All I was really doing was slowing the deterioration of my mental state, but at times it seemed like all I had.
As time passed simply writing was no longer enough to quiet the noises. It had gotten too unbearable to face my depression alone, and so I tried showing others the things I had written. Unfortunately when your writings are full of thoughts of suicide, the reactions from those who read my words were rarely positive, so I pulled back into my reclusive state. My writings quickly grew darker, until they had devolved into suicide letters filled with apologies, and goodbyes. I was alone, literally surrounded by the depression that I had taped onto my walls. It felt as if my life couldn’t get any worse, and so on a day when I finally felt some semblance of happiness, I tried to kill myself to preserve it.
Since that low point in my life I’ve found a wonderful therapist, learned to think about my own well being, and continued to write my feelings. I decided that the best way for me to truly open up was to put my words on a forum that was open for engagement. Seeing so many others who have shared my experience has been one of those most comforting realizations I’ve had in the past year. I know I haven’t fully held up my end of the engagement, and I am going to be striving to increase my interactions with those who feel a connection with the things they read. I truly appreciate the support I’ve received since I started this blog, and hope that I can form even more connections moving forward.
Me & a mask 