Let's talk Mental Illness

 Let's Talk Mental Health

The first time I seen a mental health specialist of any kind was when I was just 15 years old . My daddy was just diagnosed with small cell lung cancer and was given 3-6 months to live. My parents already had their concerns for me for years. I spent most of my time in my room, by myself, listening to music and only coming out to eat. I was rebelling of course and was going through my "emo" phase. I went through so much black eyeliner it was ridiculous. I wore all black and long sleeve shirts to cover cuts on my arm my mother chalked up to just wanting attention. She no doubt was a good mother but came from a different time. She was all about tough love which effected me greatly my whole life. I was a depressed girl, dealing with so much and all I wanted was for her to hug me and tell me everything was going to be alright, I wanted that so many times growing up and even as an adult when she was still alive but instead I was met with "suck it up amber, there's no reason to cry about it" I know she just didn't know how to handle what I was dealing with and she showed her love in different ways. I think that's why now I'm so affectionate with my daughters and try to let them know they can come to me to talk about anything and I'll be there to be a shoulder to cry on. My mother was a strong woman. Amazingly strong. In fact, I can count on one hand how many times I've seen her cry. I e always looked up to her strength and faith. She did try her best to help me the best she could while dealing with her many mental illness issues. 

    When. We found out my daddy was dying she pulled me from school and I went to a special program 5 days a week for about a month. It was a mental health program for youth and I spent everyday there for 7 hours. I was out on my first antidepressant. After that I tried to return to school but found it hard to keep up and do all the work I missed while I was gone. I couldn't wake up in the mornings and just felt numb. I ended up dropping out in the 10th grade. I eventually got my GED but I look back now and wish I could've found out some way to enjoy school because I feel like I missed such important years of my life and missed so many experiences I should've had. 

   I spent as much time with my dad as I could. Him and my mom were separated for some time by then and he was living with his mother. I was a daddy's girl and there's was so much I didn't understand at that point in life, my mom hid a lot from me trying to protect me which I wish she hadn't. About 7 months later, in the same hospital I was born in, everyone went to take a smoke break and for some reason I like to think he chose that special time for us. I held his hand and watched him gasp his very last breath. My daddy was gone. I didn't realize it then but it would change my entire life. 

    It wasn't long before I was looking for male attention elsewhere, let myself be taken advantage of and also took my first Vicodin. Which would become my downfall for many years. I started hanging out with the wrong people and doing drugs. It started with pills and weed but it wasn't long before it turned into snorting oxycotin, then snorting it and then shooting it until we figure out how much cheaper heroine was. I became a person I didn't know. One time I chewed my mom's fentanyl patch while she was out shopping, I went to go tanning and luckily they noticed I was in the bed too long and wasn't answering and knocked down the door. I woke up surrounded by nurses and doctors and my poor mom crying. The doctor said if they hadn't had found me for a minute later they wouldn't have been able to bring me back. I was dead. All blackness. You'd think that would open someone's eyes and make them change their lives, but it didn't. 

     My mother saved my life many times over. I look back and feel so terrible at everything I put her through, she was the one person who never gave up on me and I didn't see that until after she passed too. Ultimately, it was my daughter who finally saved me. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I never did those things ever again. I wouldn't even eat hot dogs or fish, I stopped hanging out with those so called friends and it was just me, my mom and my daughter. She truly saved my life. 

      When my daughter was just three years old and Aria was just a baby, I went outside to get aria from her dad who finished his visitation, I took the babies upstairs to their favorite person, gammy. I opened the door and immediately knew she was gone. I can still feel the dread I felt that exact moment. I called 911 and started cpr. The girls thought I was playing with her so it was all so chaotic. I thought losing my dad was hard but it somehow doesn't even come close to how hard it was to lose my mom. She was my everything. I was all alone now. 

       I think I've tried about every antidepressant they have at this point. Nothing has ever worked. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, severe depression, generalized and social anxiety and ADHD. I've never been able to have a healthy relationship, the BPD controls so much of my life because I am absolutely terrified of abandonment. I assume everyone dislikes me or they will eventually leave or stop being my friends/boyfriend. My emotions are so intense they are hard to control. I often feel a sense of doom for no reason, I can't make phone calls without having a panic attack, I have no self esteem whatsoever. All I want is to feel "normal" I want to have a conversation with someone without freaking out internally, I wish I wasn't always worrying. Mental Illness changed the life I should've had. I should've graduated and went to college and had a career by now. I should be dating or married with a house and a dog and my babies, I should have girls night with all my friends and plan family vacations. It destroyed my dreams and no matter what I try, nothing helps it. I'm still working on it everyday, I want to feel happiness. I want to take control over it before I die. I want it to stop controlling my life. So many people who don't have mental illness don't understand how debilitating it is. Their advice is usually to just think positive or do yoga but there's a difference between sadness and real mental illness. It's like telling someone with diabetes to cure themselves. Today, was a bad day, but I'm going to get up and keep trying anyways. If it wasn't for my kids, some days I think I wouldn't still be here. I want to enjoy whatever time I have left though. Deep down, the real amber is grateful for having another day to live and knows I can get through anything. It's just so hard to do it alone. I'm glad, so glad I'm not where I was 10 years ago. I have so much life left to live though and I will overcome somehow, I always do. 

     Do you suffer from mental health issues? Can anyone relate? Leave a comment and let's talk about it. If anyone reading this needs to talk to someone on their bad days, the one thing I am is a good listener and I never judge . We're in this together and we need to help each other. I'm also embarrassed sometimes to reach out or be vulnerable or ask for help but I've learned that you can't be like that when your at your lowest or suffering. People do care about you even when your brain tells you otherwise. My inboxes are always open.