It Gets Better, This Is Proof.

Hello everyone,

My names Krissy and I live in the United States and I am 19 years old. I'm a friend of the admin of this website and I told him I'd give some help to users here who feel things are so bad, they can't move on. I was previously diagnosed with manic depression, or commonly known as bi-polar disorder. I'm two years out of rehab, so I figured I would share my story to help people through the things they are going through.

I had a lot of underlying issues when I was finally checked into a rehab center for 2 failed suicide attempts. When I was seven years old, my fifteen year old cousin sexually abused me in the back bedroom of our grandmother's house. I didn't understand what that was, so I didn't protest, I didn't know any better, but I thought I had done something wrong. Which, that isn't the case. A seven year old, or anyone else for that matter, should not have to deal with those kinds of things, but, I held it in. I went on living life, pushing it to the back of my mind, being somewhat afraid of men in general. It wasn't bad enough to shy me away from boyfriends in the future, it just messed me up mentally.

All throughout the years of my life, my father has been on the sidelines, occasionally calling me or emailing me for birthdays and holidays. My parents were divorced when I was 5, so I've always felt bad for not having a father figure. I felt dejected at school during social events where parents were invited because my father wasn't around and my mother worked all day. The closest thing I had to actual parents with me everyday, all day were my grandparents. I lived with them until i was age 12. My mother got re-married to a very nice man who treats her well and I had to move from all of my familiar stuff to a town where I didn't know anyone or had no friends. I went through 6th and 7th grade with 2-3 friends and little hope for having much more than those friends that I had.

Junior High School came around and I kept to myself, occasionally engaging in social activities. I still didn't have many friends and I always got bullied. I kept pushing through, thinking 'this has got to get better, this can't be life.' Finally, freshman year of high school came around, and thats when things took a turn for the worse.

I had got into hanging out with the wrong crowd. I drank until i couldn't see straight, puked and passed out day after day. I'd also goto parties with the "in crowd" and do drugs. I was living off of alcohol and drugs for a year before my friend got sent away for commiting suicide. I had lost my best friend. I cried for a few days and realized, she needed help. My mother told me everyday I was worthless, that I wasn't going to make myself into anything. I was told I was ugly everyday and so that's what I thought. I was brain washed into thinking I was these things I wasn't. Soon after my friend was sent away, my aunt passed away from kidney failure, which ironically my mother had also. I was scared to death of losing my mother, even though she gave lousy support half the time. I didn't want to think of what would happen to me if I had to go live with my dead beat father. I mourned her loss and began to heal myself by locking away my heart and every emotion I felt. I just didn't want to be hurt anymore. I became an icy girl and stayed up late at night, carving up my arms with razors; hell I used what was sharp. Pretty soon, I was drinking, doing drugs, staying up late and bleeding. That's what life was for me for 2 years. I faked happiness for everyone else and hid the true emotions. The sleepless nights, the blood loss, the mind loss. Everything. I was a happy girl to everyone else, but behind closed doors, i was aching and begging for help.

I was very close to my grandparents, seeing they practically raised me. I love them to death. My grandfather was diabetic and had respiratory problems. I knew he wasn't going to last long when he started having mini strokes. I was scared everyday, to get that phone call from a family member, saying he was gone. I visited him everyday in the ICU and spoke to him all the time, even when he was unconscious. I still feel so guilty about his death. He passed on four years ago from Asbestos poisoning, which led to lung cancer. On the day of his funeral, I just wanted to crawl into the casket myself and go with him. Go to sleep forever with my poppy. I held his corpse around the neck tight, sobbing into his cold chest. I wanted nothing more than to say goodbye, which I never got to do. I feel guilty because he was on so many drugs, he would hallucinate that I was standing at the bottom of his hospital bed. He would beckon for me to come, but I just stood there, ignoring him. I'm so afraid, even now, that he hated me when he died because my hallucination didn't listen to him. This is what pushed me over the edge. I lost it and slit my wrists. It wasn't that deep, thank god, but my mom had unknowingly walked into my room and saw me. She yelled at me and hugged me, crying, asking 'why me?!' to an invisible force. I didn't understand...I wanted to be better, I wanted to feel good, but I just couldn't. We had a talk and I agreed to get better, without medical attention. Promises are broken everyday. 2 weeks later I swallowed half a bottle of anti-depressants. My heart rate slowed down, I couldn't see straight and I was delayed with responses of all kinds. I couldn't talk and I was immediately rushed to rehab where I was analyzed and submitted to a ward.

I spent 6 months in the ward, with people who had it worse than I did. They found out I did drugs and my mom and stepdad came to visit everyday. I did therapy sessions everyday also. I didn't like group therapy, I was always a loner, I still kind of am. I had a social worker assigned to my case and she had spoken to me about my real father, and thats when I let go of my emotional barrier. I realized, if I truly wanted everything I had back, I would need to sacrifice the small world I had built inside myself for it. I told her about the sexual abuse. I was asked if I wanted to press charges, but I said no. It was 10 years too late by then and it would just drive my family further apart than they already are. I spoke about the negligence of my father also. They even phoned him and had him come in. He cried at my feet, begging for forgiveness. I got letters and cards from everyone I knew. I knew it; I had to change. I didn't want to die forever.

It's now April 17th, 2007 and I'm two years out of rehab. I've done so well I've been taken off anti-depressants and I no longer have the urge to kill myself. I know this is different for everyone, but things get better. I've reunited with my father and we are working towards achieving father-daughter status. I'm in college and doing well and I've got a handful of true friends. Sure, I have my depressing moments, but I grab my diary and write a poem, or vent at the poor diary. It's seen a lot of abuse, to be honest. I know there are people out there reaching for help. Don't EVER be afraid to ask! You are granted mental health rights no matter what. No one can live your life for you or make your decisions. Life sucks sometimes, but it also has so many things to offer. I know some of you may not have friends, but there is AT LEAST one other person out there who will sacrifice anything for you. My friend is currently going through major depression and I've pulled her off that ledge so many times, i can't count them on my fingers now. I don't mind if you guys email me or message me, just wanting to talk, or a friend. I'd be happy to listen to you and offer advice.

aixelsydevahii [at] hotmail.com <---email.

you can always ask for msn/aim screen names later. but please, don't be afraid to voice yourself. this is something serious, if you have a problem, get help. you can't fix everything yourself, i sure couldn't. i owe my success to medication, therapists, an understanding family and a best friend who hasn't left my side since she was born. remember, it always gets better, even if the light on the other end of the tunnel gets dimmer each day, its still there.

 

Welcome to the site

And congratulations on being such a fighter, fighting through everything and coming out the other side. That is pretty inspirational.

Look after yourself

 

Hey Krissy, thx so much for posting your story, I had no idea you went through so much :hug: I'm glad things got better for you I really do, you're such a wonderful person it's a pleasure being your friend If you ever need a friend back anytime just drop me a pm on irc, I always have time for you :arms:

 

Your story is really uplifting, im so happy you made it through everything

 

im glad i could help. i felt like sharing something inspiring for people. to let them know they aren't alone and that they can make it. im proof, as tons of others are also =)

 

i fail to understand how one person's happy ending is evident that every one else's condition will improve. are you directing this to all people who use this board, or only those who are manic depressive? if it's the former, i'd like to apply your logic elsewhere: does a skin cancer survivor's success indicate that everyone with lung cancer is going to get better? there is a fundamental rule that applies to all theories - a million successes will not prove them right, yet one failure will prove them wrong. this rule is seen as fact by the scientific community. i thus submit that your success does not prove that it gets better, and that the ridiculously high teen suicide rate in your country proves that it probably won't. you've stated here yourself that your father finally chose to support you, and that you had a true friend of some sort. you also had access to therapy and medication. what about those who don't, what about those whose parents hold a firm disbelief of the existence of mental illnesses of any kind? furthermore, all of the above applies to people living in america or another free society. there are countries where help does not exist; what about asian sex slaves for example, forced into legalized prostitution at age 13. is it going to get better for them? i think not.

 

Depression is a nasty illness and many will agree (unless you're a scientologist for example) that you need to make a many pronged attack to get rid of it. Family support is more often than not vital, as is medication and therapy. Many in the western world fear professional help because they feel they either don't deserve help, refuse to believe they are ill or at worst fear that they will be locked up and so suffer in silence. It is to this group of people that have access to them and the internet that Krissy is addressing her post.

No-one person can solve the ills of the world and I have yet to see a single post that was so profound that it could trigger world peace and make a change for goodness across the globe, however, we all (those of us that are inclined to) do our part to help, even if it's just to help a single person, which was the aim of this site aswell.

It must have taken Krissy alot of courage to post about her story, especially since she is so quiet about it (she's never mentioned anything to me before since I've known her) and if it persuades one person to get help professionally then they have the chance of a brighter tomorrow.

You can never judge who will get better, some people unfortunately don't and shows that although we have made great advances in medecine and knowledge of the mind that we still have a way to go.

Hoever, for those that have access to medecine, professional help and maybe support from the family, giving them an example of what can happen if they get the treatment they deserve is a good way to help those that fear the consequences of their illness and maybe will be just the push they need to seek out such help. It is for those people that Krissy has aimed her post I believe.

 

Op, why do you wish to continue to live? do the meds make your mind think that way?

 

perfectly said....

 

Really its gets better well sometimes it doesnt my life basically ended last June my partner of 14 years and spilt up. After been found by my ex overdosed which was just by mistake i then tried to hang myself which didnt work because somebody seen me and called the police then after been commited to a mental hospital for a few weeks i managed to get out.From then on i have lost my job, house, i go out on weekends get totally destroyed to the point of been taken to A and E a few times. I then managed to get a job in IRAQ hoping that somebody would blow me up or shoot me, no such luck i get sacked after going basically mental with a automatic weapon. I then come home and try and gas myself in my car only for the car to run out of petrol i have never felt like this before (i was a normal person with everything to look forward too in life). Hopefully i wil get it right soon and end this pain, because trust me whoever says time is a great healer is full of shit i know FACT!

 

Im sorry finch...i wish i could feel like shit just so you can feel better....time is really great

 

Thanks for sharing your story with all of us :hug:

 

We can all appreciate your intent to bring hope to those down on there luck. Everyone here understands that things can and do get better. What we struggle with is figuring out how we can make things better for ourselves. The biggest obstacle preventing us from improving things is our lack of desire. It’s much easier to sit on my ass whining and complaining about how bad things are than it is to go out and changing things.

Your story only made me feel bad about have no actual problems. I am Emo, filled with unjustifiable angst. Seeing people overcome real problems when I can’t overcome imaginary ones……well I hope you fall on a cactus tomorrow.

~Bono the Uppity Canadian with a Floppy Head and Beady Little Eyes

 

I'm glad that you took that leap of faith and got better. You're gonna be stronger from it.

 

I relate to this a lot. I...just...do...

 

I have to agree and say that things do get better--I was so, so down for so long and I have seen the darkest nights and the loneliest days--and now I am on my way out (WHICH IS NOT INSTANT BY ANY MEANS!), getting better with everyday that I wake...

To those who are in the belly of the beast, do not lose hope, and try to remember that you are a human with human flaws and imperfections, and that you should never be ashamed to admit that and admit that you can't make it on your own. If you want to die, please seek help. If you cannot shake the darkness, please seek help.

This world loves you so much--it really, really does.

 

Oh yeah it get better True yeah.....But u forgot about those people who will never get better like schizphrenia and personality dısorders!...İ would see u if u were in my place u wouldnt even post this letter...Never mınd ı am glad that u are oke but u are wrong ıt doesnt always get better..!

 

I am sick of people rubbishing threads like this. If you don't agree and you don't like it then don't read it. If you want to stay stuck in your pit forever then just dont' expose yourself to anything positive, but don't try to bring other people down with you/

This is not just aimed at you, it is aimed at everyone who rubbishes these threads. I hate it/

also, by the way I personally know someone with schizophrenia, it is all manages by medication and they have a great life. I also know more than one person with severe personality disorders like Borderline who have benefitted drastically from meds and therapies siuch as DBT.

Don't give up.

~Nobody~

PS> Sorry, I have spent ages typing this to try to eliminate typos, but I know there are some, I am drunk, sorry,

 

Well life certainly is not getting better for me.

I have had car troubles and lost good jobs. i have just gotten a job that i liked worked at it for 3 days and the dang hook broke/slipped and i got a really bad burn on my right hand, then i got token off the schedule at work. i have hurt numbers of people in my past. i have a dad that is skitso that i have to constantly watch, a mom who passed away when i was 15. i had to quit school to put my younger brother through school, had to take care of dad, take care of house, etc. i found someone who i thought really did care for me and they were like a mom and dad to me but i screwed that up cause i wanted more love from them and they said i was obsessed with them. They were my whole world and they left, just walked out of my life and did not even think about what it did to me and to beat it all they were supposed to be christian. a minister and his wife. they were the world to me but guess what i will soon be outta this world cause i have no one.

Things will not ever get better for me.

 

Which is what this site is for, kthnx :smile:

Oh, and your so-called joke wasn't funny, but highly triggering, and you would do well not to repeat such things here.