Hope in Better Days

I came across this site actually looking for ways to easily kill myself without having, yet another, hospital visit. Which isn’t something I would normally do, but I had and have been desperate. I have quite a few issues of my own, just as many do on this site, but I have always been one to succeed and overcome because I put it to myself to do just that.

Here’s a little back story; my mother was pregnant with me over suppos-ed rape. She had me and chose to give me up because she supposedly had a sickness that made her very ill at the time. Luckily her parents, my grandparents, chose to take me in and care for me in every way. I hit the age ten, had a misdiagnosis of schizophrenia over seeing my step dad (man my mother got with right after she had me) in weird places, the father who evidently tried to hurt me and my mother in different ways. I went to my first ever mental hospital visit, got tons of pills handed out to me, and stayed for about a month.

Fast forward to age twelve, this is when I first started to getting majorly suicidal. It was the day my grandmother first hit me and it wasn’t just a slap in the face, either. It was banging against walls, a bloody face, and screaming from all of my family members in the household, at the time. That was one of the few times it had ever happened though, thankfully. A few days after the event, after torture in my mind of wondering why I wasn’t good enough for anyone and why people seemed to hate me, even when I tried to love everyone.. I was so confused to why I wasn’t WANTED by anyone. It led me into a long winding road that will still effect me today, little did I know. Anyway, age twelve.. second hospital visit- found out my schizophrenia was just slight paranoia and got diagnosed with severe anxiety and major depression. Stayed about 3 weeks. Left and swore I would never go back.

Fast forward to age fifteen. There was much that happened during the three years, but I will not go through all of it because it’s not quite as important. Anyway, at this age I was a wreck. A year before, my fourteenth year, I had met.. what is now my United States Marine. Now, this guy was a blessing in disguise. We were both in our high school years and he saw I was a complete mess. He saw all of this, but he never stopped encouraging me, supporting me, and loving me. He was the first person I told my whole story too and the only one I probably ever will. There are many things that are hard for me to say, but he knows everything.

Age fifteen another guy, my cousin, tried to pursue me sexually while I was asleep. This was one of the hardest things to go through. This guy was what I considered fairly close to me. He was family. It broke my heart. It made me angry and sent me, yet again, spiraling down in my emotions and thoughts. My guy, he was there and it made him angry to the point he was ready to kill. My cousin was removed from the home and a few nights later, I tried to overdose on medication for, what I believe, was my third time doing so in my life. I won’t go through the rest of the details on that, but it was a very hard time and till this day I have trouble talking about it or thinking about it.

Fast forward to age sixteen; removed from my grandparents house. I came to my mothers house to visit for one of my school holidays and went to a mental hospital for my fourth time because I was majorly suicidal, again. I went to the ER and let out everything about what had been going on at my grandparents house. It’s something that I regret till this day, actually. They were good people, truly were. My grandmother had gotten diagnosed with cancer and we were best friend from there on, but I ruined everything then and didn’t let that go for a while. I got diagnosed with PTSD, then. I was put in my mothers care. Four hospital visits in one year, lucky to not have been put in foster care and an ongoing hospital treatment facility.

Here I am, age seventeen. I am scared. I feel like a lot of hope has been taken from me.

However, that guy I talked about? It’s been three years, y’all. He’s a beautiful person. An honest, loyal, funny, sympathetic, selfless, outgoing person. He is strong both emotionally and physically. So encouraging and inspiring. In the military, about to be going to college, and still finds time for me every day, regardless of how busy he is. This guy was my hope some three years ago and I didn’t realize it. This guy wasn’t and isn’t only my boyfriend, he is my best friend, he’s my family. I have met his family and they treat me more as a member of it than my family ever did. He is what led me to believing in MYSELF. He loved every part of me even when I couldn’t love a single thing about myself. He taught me what it was like to be loved so fully, vibrantly, and magically. He taught me what it was like to love someone unapologetically, hopelessly, and endlessly.

See, for years I had prayed and wished for something to just come in my life and let me know that things would eventually look up. Three years ago, I got that.. and I wasn’t even hoping for some guy. That was my hope. This was one person who I believed and still believe fully would not give up on me and of course you cannot rely on people to do so, but I had my own reasons to trust in that and trusting in the GOOD things, led me to the good things.

These past few weeks have been some of the hardest. This household is so empty, not people-wise, but emptied of love, compassion, honestly, and support. It got so bad, again, that I started having suicidal ideation again. I came across this site and found a little bit of that hope, again. I found a little bit of myself again.

I am seventeen, I am young, and I have made it through. I have felt alone, abused, scared, and lost, but I am here no doubt. and no, I am not here because another person simply entered my life.. I am here because I chose to cling to HOPE of better days. I am here because I, MYSELF, chose to not fully give up on me. Suicide may seem like the only way, especially for those who feel trapped, but there ARE better days ahead.. you have to trust in that. You have to pick yourself up and be a survivor. This world is cruel and some days I hate to be a part of it, but one of the most beautiful things we have been given is the ability to LIVE and to love and to hope; use those abilities.

I start back to public school in a few days, I’ve been homechooled for years and I am so nervous and scared, but I cling to better days.. that is what keeps me alive. I have a year and a half till I am out of high school. I know I can get through this. Right now, though, it’s time for me to live fully in these moments. To not be blinded by my depression, my anxiety, or my fears. I have conquered and I still can. I am determined.

I hope all of you find that determination. Life can be rough, but life can also be a very beautiful thing.

Trust in the good things to come.