I’ve really been procrastinating posting because so much has happened in the past year that I feel like I should post about it chronologically but then I have too hard of a time separating those posts and then I quietly close my computer and turn on Netflix instead. So I figured I’d just post about whatever I wanted in whatever order I wanted because I’m running the show here…

Truthfully, I am a liar. I think I’ve always been skilled at bending the truth to get out of trouble, but my depression has allowed me to perfect the art of deception. I saw what my suicide attempt did to my family and to others around me. I read letters, took phone calls, heard face to face about how my attempt to take my own life hurt others. I’m not sure…

I knew I wanted to get better after being in the psychiatric unit at Northridge Hospital in 2009 following my suicide attempt. It was the children’s ward so there was a much lighter (if you can really call any part of a psych unit “light”) feel to it. They had a room with drawings previous patients had drawn, all of course with some corny quote about how your depression won&#8217…

Before I was diagnosed with depression I felt lost, unaware of why I felt so different than everyone around me. Receiving a diagnosis gave me some relief in knowing there was a word attached to my feelings and behaviors, but opened a door to darker demons. I have carried a tremendous amount of guilt in regards to my diagnosis. I suffered no childhood trauma, had a loving family, plenty of friends, and cute lil pets…

My version of “content” is probably a little different than most. I have struggled with depression and anxiety my whole life, and even when I’m content, I’m still struggling. However, I’ve always had functionality. I’ve always gone to work, paid the bills, did my laundry, etc. Maybe it’s just a part of the mask I wear so no one can see how incredibly…

Anxiety is something that has been prominent throughout my life. My first panic attack was in the 10th grade and I can not explain the feeling that it left me with. It truly felt as though I was fighting against my own body- and losing. Outside of the occasional panic attack, I battle with general anxiety. My hands and feet always run cold because my body has not only convinced my mind, but also itself…

I’d like to start this with a statement, a mantra, something that will make me feel less guilty for shedding light on some of the flaws within my family. I was raised in a loving home and had an extremely fortunate childhood. Okay, see ya guilt and sorry mom. Growing up, my dad had a lot of misplaced anger and he directed a lot of it onto my mom. My mom never really…

In 10th grade I reached my breaking point and attempted suicide. Three months later I was sent to an all female residential treatment center in Erda, Utah where I spent 16 months trying to find my ground for the first time in my life. I had therapy four times a week. Individual therapy, family therapy, group therapy, and hot seat therapy. Hot seat therapy was with the 10 girls in my house and the therapists…