My names Danielle, i found out when i was 12 that my "stomach aches" were anxiety flares and i found out at 14 that its not normal to be beaten by a sibling. I've suffered physical trauma from a family member since i was young and have survived 2 sexual attacks. My current diagnosis is Complex PTSD, but I've struggled to figure out what was "wrong" with me. I quote the word, "wrong", because there is absolutely nothing wrong with mental illness and im not at fault for the trauma ive been put through. It's taken years to talk that into myself. I struggled with self harm from the age of 13 until November 2017, my scars are raised, bright, and a topographical map of my sad, sullen nights. I graduated from self harm to suicide attempts before my 17th birthday and in February 2016 i gave it a try. I had just gotten a truck and that night someone hit me, i was so angry that someone could ruin my Christmas/ birthday present, it wasnt the greatest truck but it was mine. They hit me while i was going to pick up my prescription, had just been broken up with from a 3 year relationship, and was already in the lowest spot I'd ever been- so i decided id end my life. Ive struggled with hearing voices and flashbacks of my trauma but nothing quite like what was going on that night. I took 28 of my 30 pills, (the last two were found on the floor,) and I laid back and listened to my dog scratch and cry at my door. Three days later i was in the ER, very confused and VERY embarrassed. I looked at life different for a while until things got bad for another few months and November 2017 i tried to take my life again. At 18 year old i had 5 suicide attempts and in December 2017 i became very very ill. At the doctors i found out i was 6 weeks pregnant with my first baby and all that raced through my mind was "oh my lord, you took all those pills about 6 weeks ago." We did some math and i didn't take the pills while i was pregnant, i gave birth to a very chunky boy on august 23rd 2018. I don't have normal looking arms. I don't have a smooth neck. I have been to very dark places and i know sometimes we can be our own worst enemies. You can fall as low as the ground will give and still somehow make it back up. You can give up everything you've ever dreamed of and God will still protect you. You can quit 100 times but life will give 101 reasons to try one more time. I lived obviously. Lived to graduate. Lived to become a mom. I lived and i survived and if you're struggling but scraping through don't let anyone take away any accomplishments of yours.
I guess all i have to say is that im here. There's so many more components to my story and my life. I struggle, daily, with postpartum depression and anxiety which are very different from the normal. I still feel like a failure and i can't imagine living to be 25 but i have a baby and he's my world, ill do anything for him. I hope everyone can find what it is that theyll do anything for themselves.
Danielle, I am so happy you chose to live. And that, each day, you continue to choose to LIVE. You might not believe this, but you are an inspiration. And you're right, sometimes we see ourselves much worse than the world does. Keep being as strong as you are, and enjoy life with your son. If you doubt how much you mean to someone, look no further than him.
Struggling with sucidal postpartum emotions is extremely discouraging and terrifying. I know I have good reason to be afraid of myself, i know i very well could lose all my marbles and regret so many things. I may not be a normal looking mom but perfect is unrealistic, my son knows only the comfort my body brings him, not what i look like.
Before my baby i had hopes of being a speaker. Like lecturing about mental illness and how teachers and students can spread kindness and pass less judgment. It's truly not easy to look like i do, jobs are hard, socializing is hard, and picking out clothes is hard. I hope and pray at least one person can stop their habit of self harm now before they permentaly disfigure themself like i did.
I Hope anyone feels free to comment or ask any questions. No question is a rude question when i willingly posted my story in hopes of interacting with other people who are struggling.