How to Deal

I really do plan on keeping this blog lighthearted, but today's events have got my heart hurting and now I have these words burning a hole in my chest. I have to put them down. I hope you'll bear with me.

When I was 18 years old, I attempted suicide.

I was 200 miles away from home, living with strangers in an unfamiliar place and my long-distance boyfriend dropped the bomb that he no longer loved me. I had never felt so alone, so hurt and so incapable of dealing with my own emotions. You see, I had been struggling with depression and anxiety for years before this night. I had gone undiagnosed, untreated, and most importantly - uneducated.

I say "uneducated" because had I been told what depression is, I might not have decided to swallow two handfuls of pain killers in an attempt to end my own life. I say "uneducated" because had I known and recognized my own symptoms of depression, I might have gone to see a counselor instead of the emergency room doctor on duty that night. I say "uneducated" because instead of drinking a 16 oz. cup full of liquid charcoal to rid my body of the drugs, I could have been prescribed antidepressants.

Depression is so much more than feeling sad and I wish people would stop trying to make it seem that small and insignificant. For years I had felt emotionally unstable and unable to deal with the pressures and anxieties of my life. And one night, I felt that it would be better to feel nothing at all than to feel the pain I was experiencing.

Mental illness is not something you can pray away. It is not something that you can throw money at. And it certainly isn't going to go away on its own. Mental illness affects both men and women. You can be 18 or 85. Rich or poor. Single or married. Mental illness does not discriminate. Until we educate our society on the types of mental illness, the symptoms, and how to deal - we are going to continue to see days like this one. A day where someone is incapable of dealing with his emotions and it ends in tragedy.

I have been off of medication for four years now. I am confident in my ability to manage my stress levels and I know when it's time to get a "check up." I know what depression is. I know how it manifests itself and now I know how to deal with it.

Please know that my heart aches for these families and friends and even the complete strangers that are affected by today - another mass shooting. But my heart also aches for the forgotten victim, the person struggling with his or her mental illness that thought this was how to deal.

Please, please, please - if there is a war inside you, if you are questioning your own desire to live, tell someone. Tell anyone. Tell me. This is not something you have to deal with on your own. And it is certainly not something you need to be ashamed of.