“What truly triggered my battle with suicide was the neglect and abuse I suffered while I lived with my dad and stepmom.”
I have struggled with depression and suicide for the majority of my life. Being 20 now and looking back and realizing that more than half of my life has been a battle, I am so proud to have made it through the worst of the worst, and I have ended up stronger because of it.
It started with my parent’s divorce. I was only about 5 years old, and the agreement they had with joint custody was: week with my mom, week with my dad – that kind of thing.
My mom was never home. I’m not saying that to be dramatic, she was never home. I don’t have any memories of her before the age of 10. That’s when I started to wonder where she was, why she wasn’t spending time with me, I even began to think she hated me.
Fortunately, my dad took custody of me on my 13th birthday. The new woman he married emotionally, and mentally abused me for years on end.
She left harassing notes around the house, put my shoes outside in the rain overnight and kicked me out until I called the police to escort me back into my own home.
One day I had come from the hospital from a suicide attempt. She came into my room and started beating me. My dad told me I couldn’t live at home anymore.
A few months ago, I discovered my mom was a heroin addict and was on the run from the government.
My depression had gotten to the point where I was barely functional at work. I wouldn’t blink, I’d drag my feet, I wouldn’t talk, I wouldn’t eat, I wouldn’t try because effort at that point felt futile.
What truly triggered my battle with suicide was the neglect and abuse I suffered while I lived with my dad and stepmom. I remember it was my first year of middle school, and I cut my wrist with a dull pair of scissors.
My stepmom cornered me and mocked me, telling me I was doing it for attention, that ‘they’re just scrapes.’
A massive contributing factor to my depression was that I was molested multiple times as a child by a person who I thought to be my friend. I never told my mom, but I told my dad and stepmom when I was ready to come out about my experience.
He refused to believe me and laughed at me. I would tell my dad I was depressed and wanted to die. He would tell me he loved me and would hug me, but never once allowed me to go on antidepressants, never gave me numbers to help lines.
Thankfully, my close friends were extremely supportive and sympathetic with everything I told them, I knew I would never be alone if I had them by my side.
A piece of advice I would give to a person who is dealing with a situation similar to mine is that you’re never alone. I know it may feel like it, and I know that’s what everyone says, but there’s millions of people in the world who are hurting like you may be.
It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to cry.
Being able to find something I loved doing to distract me from the immense pain and depression I felt was an amazing feeling. I would share my work online and have people I didn’t even know cheering me on.
Having the ability to discover a passion of yours and putting your heart and soul into it is definitely one of the most blessed feelings I have ever experienced, and absolutely was a major contributing factor to my success in coping with my depression.