*This is a true story that I am putting myself on the line to help others. Do not read if you are a person who judges because this is real life and real situations. Thank you.
It all started when I was 15. I had no idea what was going on and why I had felt like this. Felt like dying. I had no idea on the subject and the only case of suicide I had even heard of was that of Kurt Cobain. (I loved Nirvana's music back then but it wasn't until I was much older did I decide to study Kurt and why he did what he did. And people can ask me why I really feel a connection to him and to me it's obvious. We had something very serious in common.) I began crying a lot, cutting myself(people always say eww to this but if you've ever been where I was, you will see its quite normal for the depressed to want to try to disguise the mental pain by inflicting physical pain upon yourself), losing weight, and not socializing. I couldn't tell anyone what was going on because I didn't know what it was. How do you tell your parents that you're thinking about death every hour that you are awake? I went out and bought the book Prozac Nation. Kept it under my bed and read. I learned I was suffering from the disease Depression. I told my parents and was placed on Prozac and within a month I felt normal again. It wouldn't be until I was the age of 21, did the disease strike again.
While at college, my junior year, I began to see something absolutely crazy. I would wake in the middle of the evening with everything moving, my heart racing, my face a bright white, stumbling to the bathroom to vomit. I, and everyone else thought I had the flu, but after a couple days of this I knew I did not have the flu. I stayed up for 5 whole day and nights. After visiting the ER with a whole page of symptoms, they sent me home telling me a was a very healthy young woman and to not take pills that were not prescribed to me(I had taken a lot of adderoll a week prior for midterms.) Went back to my sorority house bedroom and felt a slight calmness and tried to sleep. Within an hour I was up again blurred vision, face white as a ghost, and vomiting. My mother came and got me. We went straight to the hospital in Pittsburgh and I received a diagnosis. Panic Disorder. I was placed on an anti-depressant and an anti-anxiety pill called Klonopin. College finished and I was still taking my drugs and feeling ok. But I had no idea what was to come.
At the age of 24, I returned home after leaving and living in NYC to pursue my dream of dancing and acting. I looked like a walking ghost. No soul, no anything. Stopped taking my anti-depressant and layed in bed for 3 entire months. Living off of Klonopin and water. I didn't even have the energy to do anything to myself, I only had the passive wish to God to please take me. My parents truly were lost and as much as the tried to help, nothing worked. Finally I was forced to go see a Psychiatrist and was placed back on an anti-depressant called Wellbutrin. The wonder drug actually worked, after many failed attempts of other anti-depressants. I was feeling like getting out of bed finally. I got a new job, went out with my friends, and tried to fix things with my ex boyfriend who I commend highly for having to witness all of this. His mother was horribly depressed so after he saw her behavior flaws in me, he really couldn't help me anymore. It hurt him too much. Same thing with my own father. My grandmother being a manic-depressive, he had to witness and live with something that he didn't understand at all. And he didn't want to see me like this so he tried to ignore what a position I was in. My mother, of course, was wonderful.
I moved out again and started my own life. I still constantly lived with infinite sadness but I just went through the motions and tried to be the best girl in her mid 20's I could be. At this time I had been through 3 horrible bouts of depression and still suffered daily from anxiety and panic. Also having a extreme addiction to anti anxiety pills, both Klonopin, and Xanax. I had a ton of self made coping mechanisms. 1st being food. I didn't feel like I deserved food but don't get me wrong I ate a TON when I could, but for me to gain weight, well that just couldn't happen. My bad days outweighing my good by over half left me under or around 90 pounds for years. Presciption drug abuse. And my infamous....alcohol abuse. I often drank until I forgot everything and anything. I did not want to feel like I do so I drank very much to get away from my life. Around 26 things started to go downhill at a high speed. The worst thing about depression is that you really never see it coming, in my case that I is. I suffer from chronic depression. A disease I wouldn't even wish upon my worst enemy. I did outpatient after outpatient program. I was placed back on Prozac but still lived with such anxiety that food, alcohol, and drug abuse were very apparent.
January 16th, 2009 my whole world changed. I had mentioned suicide to my therapist that morning, went to work, came home(I had just moved back into my parents and had been there for about a month while Talia and I looked for a new apt), and was told to call my therapist. She instructed me that she had called WPIC and reserved a room for me on the COPE unit where I was told I would be in a cozy setting with lots of other girls who looked very "tiny" like I did. I cried, said no, fuck you, fuck everybody, but she didn't really care and said "that's fine Sarah but if you don't go your parents and myself have the rights to commit you after your behavior at your last therapy session". So off to COPE I went.
My life locked up for 8 weeks in COPE coming up.....
-This story is far from finished and I am hoping I can at least reach out to 1 person out there that is suffering. If you are in crisis right now please call the re:solve hotline at 1-888-796-8226. If you want to call or talk to me send me a message and I will call you.
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