10
Years
It’s
been 10 years. 10 solid years.
There’s
got to be something bigger…A DECADE.
10
years since my suicide attempt
10
years since my last attempt at self-harm
10
years since I left that hospital resolved to never return
10
years since I started this blog
10
years since I started my book
10
years since I learned that I could be a mental health advocate
It’s
been a decade.
I
was forty years old back then, and I misunderstood everything. I still didn’t
know why I cut myself, or why I ever said I wanted to die, even though I loved
my husband so completely. I could tell other people that were struggling that
they were loved and needed in this world. For some reason, it just didn’t apply
to me.
You
never could have convinced me at nineteen when I finally started getting
treatment for my disease that I would be FIFTY years old and still talking
about this. I just assumed back then that you took a pill for a while, maybe
saw a doctor, perhaps a therapist and cried it out and boom! You’re good. I had
no idea what I was in for.
I’m
still in treatment every single day, and I always will be. The difference is
now, I don’t hang my head in shame. Now,
I hold my head high because I made it to FIFTY and I’m pretty close to stable!
I still have my horrendously bad days, and that’s something I’m prepared for.
It will probably always happen, and I have better coping skills nowadays to get
me through. My bad days don’t seem to last as long, and they certainly don’t
drive me to self-harm.
I
certainly never thought that at fifty years old I would be celebrating all of
these milestones. There are things in my life that make it hard to feel like
celebrating, but I’m working through it. Just for a minute, I can take some
time and feel proud that I did it.
It’s
not just about medication. You have to do the work. You have to talk to yourself
every single day. You have to learn how to filter out negative thoughts. You have
to teach yourself to say, “you know what, we didn’t get that done today, but it’s
OK, tomorrow is another day”. Be nice to yourself. Read good books. Watch good
movies. Listen to how other people talk to each other and gain perspective. Try
therapy. Find yourself a GOOD doctor. Don’t just settle. You have every right
to the best medical care. Surround yourself with good people that care about
you. You’ll find your way. Just remember that you owe it to yourself to live
the best life you can.
OK,
I’m off my soapbox now. But I do get a lot of questions about these things.
Just don’t forget, you’re still going to have bad times, but this does not make
you a failure. That’s still a life lesson I’m trying to learn! Just try again
tomorrow! I don’t feel fifty years old. Except for my bone-on-bone osteoarthritis
knees, but that’s a whole other story! I don’t think I look my age or like I’ve
been fighting demons for decades. I’m still going to keep fighting them with all that I
have, I owe it to myself, and I owe it to my husband. We still have a lot of
years together and there’s nobody else I would want to spend them with.
