tw // suicide, depression, abuse, rape
Every year on #MentalHealth Day, I try to share my crazy 5-year journey battling a lifetime of chronic MDD, abuse, panic disorder, and PTSD. Long thread below

<<2015 2020>>

(disclaimer: nobody who is ill, neurodivergent, in an abusive situation, etc. should ever feel obligated to open up about something vulnerable when it's not safe or comfortable. I do this for my own reasons, including hoping someone out there gets a semblance of hope from it)

I grew up in an extremely emotionally abusive and sheltered household. My parents were constantly fighting, sometimes violently. I have clouded memories of thrown glass, my dad begging me to call the cops. My brothers and I would have to clean it up after every time, of course.

Unsurprisingly, I began experiencing depression by 10 years old, which quickly evolved into suicidal thoughts by middle school. I was 12 when I made my first plan to hang myself in my closet (obviously, I failed). I was trapped. I had no escape but school and... the Internet.

I quickly attached to the Internet, memes, and video games. When I started realizing my situation wasn't normal, I had a system down for avoiding my N parents. I gave her perfection at school and didn't leave my room ever. I met friends online who'd guide me through my illnesses.

High school was insane for me. I spent 12-hour days at school/clubs. I was at the top 1% of my class, graduated with a 4.5 GPA with several UC/CSU acceptances with honors. My parents never questioned anything I did ever, but I was emptier inside than ever. Then cosplay happened.

Cosplay completely changed my life. I always went to cons with my brothers and my parents just thought of them as nerdy baby gatherings, so I'd go and escape to a completely different world. At cons, I could be myself, express myself, and nerd out with people who liked me for me.

VERY long story short... things fell through with going to the 4-year my parents groomed me for. I'd had enough with the abuse and I needed to go. So after graduating in 2015, I left with my car stuffed with possessions, some money I had saved from a PT job, and moved counties.

These were easily the most brutal years of my life. I was couchsurfing for a little while, and then I'd started subletting somewhere. Living on your own without any guidance is HARD. I began getting help but struggled with a lot of stuff. I continued to attend cons as escape, but

at some point, the escape became yet another abusive relationship. I'd been struggling with trauma that occurred between me and a photographer who had groomed and raped me before I turned 18. I'd lost a really big part of what was carrying me emotionally through high school.

Around this time was easily the lowest point of my life:
A med I was on was making me SEVERELY forgetful. In just one week, I had lost my phone, wallet, car (my dad tricked me into him reselling it to force my to come home), my partner. Then I got hit by a car, and, I lost my job

At 18 years old, I had nothing. No exaggeration. Cosplay/cons were tainted for me. I had no money to feed myself or pay rent. Nowhere to go, or trust. What was left, really? I'd tried so hard to survive when it feels like the universe wanted me to die. So I made my decision.

I told my friends I would not be living past midnight. I left my apartment with nothing on my person and, well, dissociated for hours wandering for miles.

I came home having not hung myself from a playground swing's chains after all, so I overdosed on one of my meds. That was my first real attempt that went through. It didn't kill me, but it paralyzed me. My roommates didn't even ask why I laid on the floor lifelessly for 24 hrs.

Why talk about it in so much detail? Because after I had lived, a 5150, many repairs to my life, opened up myself to my friends, a LOT of professional help, and realizing it is actually really hard to die... in a way, I finally found peace, empathy, and most importantly, myself.

Fast forward to today. I still had a lot of struggles, even recently with my last abusive relationship, and well, COVID-19. I still go through a lot of med changes and therapy to keep afloat. But oddly enough, 2020 has been the most stable and normal year for me so far.

I live with my best friends, have a healthy relationship, have a stable living situation/income, and have a silly kitty who brings me joy every day. I know I will live with panic attacks, trauma, and depressive episodes for the rest of my life. But I've come to terms with it.

I wouldn't be as strong as I am now without the attention I've given to my mental health, the support system I've formed, and the kindness I've lended myself for 5 years. And I am EXTREMELY lucky to be able to have good care, both routine and all the times I've been hospitalized.

I can only wish that everybody had equal opportunities for the cards I was dealt later in my life. Societal and corporate understanding of mental illness, invisible disabilities, and neurodivergence is extremely poor. State systems for mental health are subpar and often abusive.

There isn't a good way to end this thread as there is no true ending to this story. Advocate for those who suffer from mental illnesses. Advocate for accessible healthcare to ALL. If you're struggling with mental illness, I hope you know you aren't alone. pic of therapy kitty :)