After watching my mental health deteriorate throughout my teens and 20s, I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
No one and nothing had helped; if anything, the endless visits to doctors, therapists, and treatment centers had confirmed my fears that I was beyond all help. Past the point of giving up, I knew something had to change but I wasn’t sure how much longer my loved ones and I could keep up this fight.
My life changed forever after receiving my B.A. in Psychology, when I met the one person who knew my illness and knew how to help me. My “miracle doctor” looked me in the eye and told me I was right for not being able to live in such unbearable pain. He told me I was sick, and it wasn’t my fault. And then he gave me the medical attention and therapeutic reference that saved my life and gave me my future back.
I have Borderline Personality Disorder. It made me irritable, angry, and emotional; I resorted to self-injury and self-medicating to numb the anger, guilt, and shame I felt for not acting like the kind, joyful person I wanted so badly to be. My family had been torn apart in their attempts to help, control, or change the concerning behaviors they were seeing. But I recovered, and we survived, all because of one person who recognized what I was going through and gave me the tools I needed to get better. I can now wake up each morning, excited about my day and ready to be a wife, a daughter, and an independent woman.
Since my recovery, I’ve devoted my life to those people who are lost and hopeless like I was. One person who cares, who knows what you’re going through, and who can help you learn the tools to change your life, is all it takes. Someone to call when you’re in crisis, a shoulder to lean on for support and encouragement, and a teacher to give you and your loved ones the skills to build the life you never dreamed was possible with mental illness.
No one should ever fight this battle alone. It’s become my life’s work to make sure you don’t.