Forgiveness

I’m hesitant to post this but I’m going to try to be as vague as possible.

When I was in high school gym class there was this person who picked on me like crazy. They poked me with a stick and their gang of friends would all stand around and laugh and point fingers because I was a fat monster.

Honestly that hurt so much that it still bothers me. Out of all the mean things people have called me that individual and their actions hurt the most.

Recently I found out this individual was struggling with depression. They added me on Facebook and I was hesitant to accept.

The next day they committed suicide.

And I sat there in shock.

I always pegged this person as an asshole who caused me so much mental turmoil I was too selfish to see if they were okay.

I’ve been battling with myself. I know they struggled but god they made me suffer. They made me suffer so much that I still struggle with that today. Whenever I have on an outfit that’s a little too tight I just imagine getting poked with a stick while everyone stands back and laughs.

But what can I do? I can no longer talk to this person. I can’t demand an apology.

And I feel so selfish because they were struggling so much they took their own life.

And I decided the only thing I can do is forgive.

I’m going to forgive even if they were never sorry.

Because I can’t hold a grudge for someone who hates me when they hated themselves more. I can’t be filled with hate for a reason that happened long ago.

So I’m going to try and take this as a lesson. I wish I would have messaged them when they added me and asked if they were doing okay. I’ve gotten a reputation as someone you can go to for help whenever you’re struggling and honestly it’s amazing.

If for some reason another bully from my past tries to add me on Facebook I’m going to make sure they’re okay. I won’t ask for an apology because you can’t hurt someone else unless you hurt.

So today I choose forgiveness. I forgive all of those who may not even be sorry.

The importance of trigger warnings

trigger-warning

Look –I know everyone thinks trigger warnings are over done, people are too sensitive, blah blah blah. But I’m here to defend trigger warnings.

As I’ve been open about, I was raped. Seeing rape scenes in movies and television makes me have full blown panic attacks. I’ve had to leave movie theaters because of this. When I’m with someone who’s seen the show and they tell me, “just so you know there’s a rape scene will you be okay?” I have time to prepare. Take deep breaths, or hide if I need to.

I don’t know if I’ve been as open about this, but I did use self-harm as a self-medicated way to feel better. I didn’t know using a razor blade across your arm was an option until I saw an episode of Degrassi. My favorite character, Ellie, started cutting herself. At the time I was like, wow. That seems to be helping her. When she cuts herself she’s able to remain composure and hide her depression.

I’m not sure if I would have come to this conclusion without Degrassi or not. At the time this show was playing (I believe I was in middle school) I was already slamming my head into lockers, falling on to pavement as hard as I could, purposefully scratching myself and pulling my hair. So it’s save to say, I was already using this method. The thing that was tempting about cutting myself was that it was easier to hide. When you slam your head against a locker door, people notice.

Oh, side note, the same time I was doing this there was a rumor that I was going to kill myself when I was 15 and literally NO ONE cared. They just kept checking to see if it was true and then told me I was stupid.

The point of this is, maybe, just maybe, there was  a warning before the show saying something  like, “Hey, Ellie has problems you shouldn’t do what she’s doing this isn’t a good thing to do” but obviously in a more formal way, I wouldn’t have done it.

That’s actually something I thought 13 reasons why did very very well. For those of us recovering from past trauma, having a trigger warning before the episode allowed us to prepare for what was about to happen.

 

Anyways, that’s just my thoughts.

 

show time

So last night I went to a concert.

I was super hesitant about it because the last few concerts I’ve been to, my anxiety has been so high and I usually have a panic attack.

In fact I went to see my favorite band about a year ago, awesome line up awesome everything. I had a very kind friend with me being so nice and asking me if I was okay and comfortable and everything, and I had a panic attack and bulldozed people away and the poor thing got a concussion. It was a shit show.

 

so safe to say, I was worried.

The venue was small and a sold out show. i stood in the back against a barricade and for a while, everyone was staying away from me.

Then drunk girls came up to me and put their arm around me and started saying we were going to be friends. and strangers were leaning on me. and people just continued to bump in to me.

Here’s the thing — one of my big triggers at concerts is being touched.

And I’m so well aware that you will get bumped in to at concerts. But sometimes people are intolerable. I asked a few people to stop touching me, politely, and then they continued. (I’m also claustrophobic so it’s hard for me to tell if I’m anxious because of people or because of claustrophobia). 

Honestly, it feels like I’m being smothered. When strangers start touching me, it makes me feel like I’m nothing more than a wall. It makes me tense up, it scares me. I can’t stand being touched by people I don’t know.

As you know, I have a bachelor’s in psychology so I pretend I know everything. Apparently, the best treatment for anxiety is exposure. So I just took a few deep breaths and said this is okay, this is going to help me get better. People are going to touch me and I’ll get used to it. It’s going to be okay

Anyways,

for the first time I disassociated. It was actually scary. It was like I wasn’t there anymore. My vision was blurry, I couldn’t hear anything. I just felt dead.

So I’m done with concerts. I don’t want to put my friends through that, they shouldn’t have to baby sit me.

However, I am going to ask my doctor for medication just for anxiety as well because the depression anxiety combo meds don’t help.

 

Fooling myself 


The whole reason I stopped taking anti-depressants was because of an error at the pharmacy. I wasn’t able to refill my prescription for three weeks so I just never refilled it.

I felt so much better for months. For the first time in a long time I could feel. Anti-depressants have made me flat and pretty emotionally dead. But now I could feel butterflies and excitement and the good and the bad.

My hopefulness slowly started to diminish. I stopped having the energy I once had once I stopped. I gained a bit of weight. My anxiety came back with a vengeance. And the thought of death never leaves my mind * I also am extremely afraid of the afterlife/eternity and it shoots burning hot anxiety through my entire body until I’m shaking*

So it’s time. It’s time to go back to therapy. It’s time to go back on medication.

So here’s to hoping I can find one that doesn’t make me sick to my stomach or extremely suicidal.

5th time’s the charm, right?

The perfect life 


These past few years I decided to be open about living with depression. Since then, my Facebook, my instagram, and my Snapchat, show me at my worst. And that’s my choice. 

I haven chosen to document what it’s like, what it looks like, how it feels, to be living with a mental illness. 

When I look at other’s social media, it often times makes me feel like I’m not doing enough. I know you should never compare yourself to others but god, when I’ve been working for two weeks straight and only getting five hours of sleep a night, it’s hard to not look at those who are on vacation and feel like I’m doing something wrong. 

So this is just a reminder, for you and I, that my social media isn’t  typical. I’m choosing to be open and show my worst, while others can only show their best. 

And maybe this is me reading in to it, in fact, I’m sure it is, but when I actually go out and do something, I don’t really document. I would rather be in the moment rather than on my phone.  Those who show it off, want to show it off. They want the likes and that’s all they care about.

So here’s to us. The ones who show the brutal truth. The ones who aren’t afraid to be less than perfect. 

You’re a stunner. You’re doing better than you think. 

❤️

What matters

I’ve always been large and I’ve always been bullied

I’ve been bullied specifically because others view me as unacceptable

the way clothes fit my body, the amount of space I take up is unacceptable

people would poke my protruding belly with sticks because it’s so hard to fathom that someone could have a belly that sticks out.

Everyone told me to ignore them and that I am more than a size.

 

But I’m not more than a size. I’m not more than a number. I’m constantly reminded that I am just a fat person.

I’m not a college graduate, an uber driver, a friend, a Coloradan.

I am just fat.

It’s hard when people stop thin girls with eating disorders while it’s encouraged with fat girls.

One year I lost about 50 pounds by hardly eating and burning at least 1200 calories at the gym everyday and all I got was praise on how good I looked.

And when I try to just eat healthy and exercise, nothing happens.

I’m constantly told I’m unhealthy, I’m going to die from strangers and family a like

so tell me how I am more than just a number when that is all I have ever been.

That’s how people see me, that’s how people describe me, that’s what rude strangers yell at me on the street.

And I’m supposed to not let that get to me.  I’m supposed to be more than that.

 

But most of the time, I don’t feel like I am. Most of the time I’m just the fat body I live in.

Distractions.

Today I found myself very very sad.

Usually when this happens, there is no reason. However, this  time there was a reason.  Since I knew the reason, I decided to find ways to distract myself.

I hope this helps someone else.

1. Call your boyfriend, friend, family member. 

My boyfriend is a really cool guy. He knows the struggles of depression and is always willing to call me when I get like this. Not only does he let me complain if I need to, he is amazing at getting me to think about other things.

While reaching out can be scary and really really difficult, it’s almost always rewarding.

2.  Funny Movies.

I have a depression movie list – Zoolander, Shaun of the Dead, Dirty Dancing, Easy A.

Dirty Dancing isn’t really a comedy it’s just my favorite movie ever. But seriously, put on a movie that you know makes you laugh.

shaun of the dead

3. YouTube

If movies aren’t really your thing, I highly suggest watching Jenna Marbles.

Favorite Video #1

Click

Favorite Video # 2

This one is really sweet guys

4. Get out of the damn house

This is really hard, I know. I missed many classes because I just didn’t have energy. What I do, when I’m able, is to plan something yummy I want for dinner or something I want to bake. Cooking/baking can be very therapeutic. So, plan something out, and go to the store. Just leaving the house for a very little bit can be so very helpful.

 

And then you get cookies.

5. COLORING.

Adult coloring books are super popular right now. I’m impatient and they are usually too intricate for me so I often download free coloring pages and print them. I prefer Disney.

But this keeps your mind off your problems and it’s super relaxing

coloringbook_lineart_mickeymouse-e1470091476357

(here’s a free one I found for you guys).

6. Go to the water.

I’ve always loved being by the water. I could sit by a river for hours and just watch. If there is a lake, river, ocean, close to you, go to it. If not, a bath is also relaxing.

I think it’s very important for you to feel your emotions. Don’t hold back your tears, you’ll feel better to let it out.

But once you start feeling the dead, emptiness inside of you, I think you’re in need of a distraction.

 

And finally

7. Talk to me.

I will literally talk to anyone about anything. I’m here for you guys.