A Bone to Pick

(the disapproving giraffes disapprove)

This has kind of been sitting on my mind for a really long time, and I feel like I just need to tell someone about it. I hate telling my testimony. It's not that I hate what God has done in my life, because frankly, I'm really happy about the way things have turned out, but I hate that people treat me differently because of my past. It's like I'm suddenly fragile as soon as they learn that I used to be suicidal, and I've self-harmed on multiple occasions. Because, really, if they took the time to know me, they'd understand that I'm very alright in the head and I'm a very rational person. I'm not mindless, and I'm not impulsive. I'm on depression/anxiety medication. I'm okay. Those were the darkest days of my life, and they're behind me now.
I'd like people to see that.

I bring this up because I've sort of had it with people making jokes about suicide and people cutting themselves.They think that the idea of hurting oneself is, in some way, sort of comical. People who commit suicide are selfish, and those who cut are trying to get attention.
That's not the way it is for everyone, though, is my point. For me, it was literally either hurt myself, or kill myself. I'd ask you which one was more rational for me at the time? If I had to do something out of despair to feel something other than self-hatred and overwhelming temptation to end it all, would it not better to harm myself in a way that can be mended? I am not advocating self-harm for all people, but I'd like people to understand that neither of these topics are anything to joke about.

To those of you of whom I know outside of the net, please watch the "s" word around me, because there is no word that makes me feel more ashamed. No word that makes me feel more alienated, like I'm some sort of creature from a whole other universe. No word that makes me feel dirtier that everyone else. I am so embarrassed that I was even ready to do that to my family, and to my friends. To the person who found me. To the schools I've attended, and the people who know they've hurt me in some way and would blame themselves for the rest of their lives. I cannot explain the feeling I get in my gut when someone jokes about it. I'd encourage everyone to please watch what they say, because I know that I'm not the only one out there.

(what I look like when I forget to take my pills)

I'd also like to say now how my life has changed dramatically now that I'm on drugs, because I really can't wrap my mind around why people don't take them if they so obviously help with the quality of life. Depression runs in my family, and I know that my mom struggled with it for forty years before finally finding Zoloft, what I'm currently on. My dad, also, said that he went through a period in his life where he felt like he wanted to die as well. I know that for most people who are depressed, it is because of genetic dispositions. And so if help is out there to mend problems like depression by simply popping two little blue pills a day, why don't people take them?

I used to get very depressed after having to leave the room because someone was eating something I couldn't stand or getting a panic attack somewhere. But now that I've been on medication, when I do need to leave, the corrosive sadness does not engulf me anymore. I can shrug it off and tell myself that we'll try again next time, and it's going to be okay. It's truly amazing! My quality of life in regards to my 4S symptoms has gotten much better as well. I'm not freaking out because the lady at the vet's was chewing gum annoyingly. I still notice that I should be pulling my hair out with anxiety, but all I feel is annoyance - like if someone was poking me over an over with a stick, as opposed to someone branding me over and over with a hot iron. These are the dramatic differences I feel now, and I couldn't be happier with the results.

While I do have those small things that still make my skin crawl, like my parents eating cucumber and broccoli at dinner tonight, I figure I can live with what remains. And if not, I can always get my dosage increased to three pills.

Life is manageable once again, and I have a future. Thank you little blue pills.

"I ride the lightwhale to work."

                                           "Is that like a porpoise?"

                                                   (dinner table conversation)