It was December of 2010. From the outside I was excelling. I was working 32 hours a week for a non-profit as Administrative Manager. I was taking 3 courses towards my BComm. I was mentoring troubled young woman and leading prayer teams at my church. I was organizing fundraising events and Christmas hampers for the needy, but inside I was dying. I knew something was terribly wrong with me but I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to let anyone down.
I secretly went to doctors to try to explain to them how I was feeling. I wasn’t currently having thoughts of hurting myself or others so they couldn’t do much for me. One Doctor prescribed me 10mg of Cipralex a day and another prescribed me a low dose of Tegratol. I started to binge and purge and spend all my extra time at the library trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I decided that I had Bipolar 2 and OCPD. I went to the hospital and told the doctor this. They sent me home. I was in so much pain and agony and I didn’t know where It had come from and what to do with it.
I very clearly remember crying in my bedroom one night and the thought came into my head “cut yourself and you will feel better”. I went directly to the kitchen and took and knife and cut my wrist. And I felt better immediately. The cut wasn’t deep by any means but it did the trick and it made me feel better. I had found what the doctors couldn’t give me. My secret romance with cutting began that night and is something that I still struggle with to this day. It is something that is so hard for the average person to understand but it makes so much sense to those of us that struggle with it.
This is the first of many blog posts that I will share with you that will take you down a deep dark journey with me. That journey has been my life. And I refuse to believe that all the pain I have suffered has been for nothing.