So what’s my story? That is a big question to answer, but this post will be partially representative what my story is or at least a timeline of what’s happened. I’ll try and be as brief as I can. Anyways, here it goes:
I am a 21 year old survivor today and I’ve been a survivor since the day I was born.
The day I decided to come into this world, I was 3 and a 1/2 months premature. I was supposed to be born in October and came out in July. Weighing just 1lb 3oz, I fought for my life. Granted I don’t remember any of it, just what I’ve heard from my parents, and even that’s fuzzy right now. Anyways, with the help of some amazing medical staff I began to grow, but terrifyingly I had another set back. A catheter (I think that’s what it was?) that was somewhere in my arm (or hand or wrist?) got caught in a vein and sucked around my heart.
My parents had to get in contact with a doctor from outside the hospital to come up with a plan to get this tube away from my heart and out of my body. I was too small and vulnerable to have any kind of surgery, so this doctor finds a way to go through a jugular vein to get this catheter. And I survived. I grew up to have no physical and mental disabilities.Well, with the exception of mental illnesses later on in my life.
My childhood was complex, I grew up with two older brothers who loved and cared for me, but I can get more into that on another post. I’m going to jump ahead here…
It wasn’t until 7th grade that I first realized I might have depression and anxiety. I had symptoms early on, but I didn’t know any better. However, in 7th grade things got out of hand and I started self-harming. I went to my guidance counselor and she called home. I didn’t get much help for my depression, I only went to two therapy sessions. The rest of middle school was hell and then I entered high school. In 9th grade I started obsess more over my image. I joined the cross-country team and decided to lose a little weight. By 10th grade my depression, anxiety, and anorexia were out of control.
I ended up being hospitalized for suicidal ideations the winter of my sophomore of high school. I then started eating disorder treatment a week later.
I was in the hospital for 3 months before being discharged. I honestly thought I was recovered, but quickly my behaviors came back and the weight fell off. I was so ignorant to the whole recovery process. I was then put into a day treatment plan and met my therapist I still talk to today (5 years later). Although the treatment program was helpful, I needed more support. So I was hospitalized again in the spring of my Junior year. I was there for a month and a half before they released me for 3 days to see how I would manage eating at home again. It was my first morning home my brother died. He was just 19 when he took his life. I was discharged from the hospital and decided I needed to stay recovered for my family. I didn’t want them worrying about losing another child or sister.
That next school year, my senior year of high school, I lost all 3 friendships. The only friendships I had due to them not understanding the space I was in mourning my brother. It was a year after my brother’s death that my parents finally divorced.
I managed to graduate and left for college in August of 2014. It’s been a tough road since being here. My depression and anxiety get the best of me at times, but I’ve managed to fight and survive, even today.
Today I’m a junior in college studying my passion, sociology. While I’m currently going through a tough time with depression and might need to partially withdraw from the semester, I’m still fighting.
I’ll probably elaborate on a lot of these events in future posts. Nevertheless, there is my story! Which is more my story of the past, not so much of the present.