#100Happy Days #Day1
while watching Phineas and Ferb. Doofensmirtz is building the Leaning Tower of Pizza
#100Happy Days #Day1
while watching Phineas and Ferb. Doofensmirtz is building the Leaning Tower of Pizza
What was the one experience that completely changed your life? What happened? How did it change your life?
I went into depression once. I was sixteen at the time, feeling extremely hopeless. I hated everything about myself. One day I decided to cut, and that’s when my life turned upside down. I began “self-harming,” because I felt like the worst person in the world. I was and still am, dealing with body image issues. I’m overweight and hated how I look. I loathed seeing myself in the mirror, and turned very insecure. I wished I was beautiful. I wished I was perfect. I was somebody else.
I was at the dorm the whole time I dealt with the loneliness, miles away from my family. At weekends I’d go home and shut myself in my room, telling my parents that I was busy finishing homework due next week when I was just sulking on my bed thinking how ugly I was. It was really hard for me to cover my sadness. Nobody noticed how I truly felt. I was so scared that people might find out about me. I was convinced that they’d be disgusted once they knew I was depressed.
It was hard to keep a balancing act in front of everyone. I was a jolly kid, a responsible daughter, and a diligent student. I graduated with honors in high school, so I had to excel in college. It was the pressure I put onto myself that dragged me down. It was my maxim to always keep going, but things were becoming a disaster when I punished myself for not keeping up with my own expectations.
It became difficult to focus in class discussions. My mind would go blank at times and I hardly understood anything about what the professor said. I’d read books and notes late at night to cope up with my studies.
I also found socializing with my classmates hard. I only had few friends in my first year in college, and sometimes I zone out when we chat. I was tired of feeling alone. But the more I tried to fit in with everyone else, the more I hated myself. I often asked myself, “What’s wrong with me?”
I was suicidal. I did lots of things to hurt myself. I cut my thighs. I scratched my skin. I banged my head against the wall. I binged and purged. And it felt like I deserved all of that.
You’re probably thinking now, “This girl is an idiot!” I guess you’re right. I was too dumb to realize that I was worth more than I thought I did. You probably do not understand why I did those things, but I do. The pain was just too much for me, too intense that I had to hurt myself physically to let the pain subside even a little. But I was wrong. The pain was so addicting, I was afraid to stop. It gave me a fake sense of relief every time I’d succumb to it. I knew I was wrong, but I kept doing it anyway.
I cut where no one would see my wounds–my thighs. I didn’t want attention. I didn’t want anyone to catch a glimpse of my dark side. It’d scare the hell out of people, but the person who was scared the most was me.
I could just kill myself if I wanted to. But there was something that’s telling me no. There was a voice in my head that would say, “You’re going too far.” And I listened. Sometimes the other voice would say otherwise. It was prodding me to make another cut, and there would be a clash of the two versions of my conscience in my mind. In the end, I got to choose who would win. And I bet you know who did.
December came and things took a different turn. I sent myself to the guidance counselor after drinking bleach. I realized how stupid I was, playing with my life and all. We discussed my problems, and she was very kind to me. That day, I went home and decided to fix my life. After that I told my mom about everything. And well, she cried a hell lot.
It has already been a couple of months since that, but I still remember everything clearly. I’m now learning to love myself and I’m making progress. There’s never a day that I don’t think of that past, but this experience makes me a much better person. I’ve learned to accept my flaws and embrace my imperfections. Not everybody will like me for who I am, but at least I have myself. I try to be optimistic with everything, and I am very happy now. My family loves me for who I am, and I am grateful for that. I was able to recover. I got into the Dean’s List too. When I have time, I meet up with my friends from high school and catch up with their lives. Life is pretty great for me now.
Because I believed it would be.