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Suicide is depressions mistress


** Warning: Graphic. This may be a trigger for those whom suffer from

depression and have encountered sucidal thoughts.**

"She laid there

Stiff as a board

Her eyes glazed over with tears

Water beating down on her legs

The longer she laid there

The more crimson the water became

Blood dripping from her wrist

Slowly making its way down the drain

Each drop that fell released a little bit more pain

As the water cleansed the blood from her wrist 

It washed away the aching she felt inside "

                      -From a journal of mine in 2004

Depression has haunted me for decades.

It comes and goes in waves, and lingers once its grabbed a hold of me.

From a very young age I always knew when it was coming. 

I could feel its dark clouds seep into my walls as if it were a demon trying to process me.

The reasons for it's visits always varied. It could have been from my parents divorce, my alcoholic father, mean girls who bullied me, boys who mistreated me, but usually it was because of my alcoholic father. I didn't know that then. I know it now.

Majority of the time I could fight it off like some demon hunter with holy water

and positive thinking. Other times, it consumed me.

There weren't many moments in life when I contemplated life.

But when I did it was terrifying. In those moments it seemed like the answer.

Especially when dealing with depression at such a young age, you know when everything 

seems like the end of the world and you can't see past the boy that broke your heart and the jealous girls calling you a whore.

I began cutting myself when I was a freshman. 

It started out as punishment. To make myself pay for the things people were saying about me. Because in high school, rumors must be true. It then became a cry for help. Hoping someone would notice them, and just ask if I was okay?! 

Once people started noticing, I felt so ashamed. So I went back to punishing myself.

I stoped cutting my wrists and starting cutting my thighs, so no one would see them.

This went on all through high school. My senior year being the worst in 2007.

I can recall one night where I was in my bedroom staring at a bottle of pills and my ex boyfriend could tell something was seriously wrong. He called my mom in the living room to tell her she should check on me... She came in, just in time.

It didn't get easier, it got harder, but I got stronger. I kept reminding myself, I am only 18.

I have a whole life I have yet to live. High school was but the 1st chapter. I clung to positive people, and tried my best to weed out the demons. It took about 3 years before I saw the light.

Almost 10 years went by without a single visit from my darkness.

Until last year...

I felt it seeping back in the year prior if I am being honest.

When I found out my husband had an affair the summer after our daughter was born  I immediately flashed back to that little girl laying on the shower floor covered in her own blood. I felt the heaviness of my chest come back, and this time it wasn't lifting.

I used the same positive thinking and mindset shifting techniques I did as a teen.

I dove deeper into work and business, and submerged myself in church.

Ignoring.

Avoiding.

Denying.

Another year passed, and I discovered my husband had cheated again.

This was the beginning of the end for me.

I was on the verge of opening my first brick & mortar salon.

I was coaching cheerleading for a local school district.

I had an almost 2 year old daughter.

I was making new friendships. 

I was doing everything but anything I could to focus on myself.

If you have been around for some time, then you know how the story goes.

Girl opens salon.

Girl leaves husband.

Girl drinks tequila.

Girl looses a best friend.

Girl resigns from her own fucking salon.

But what you don't know about that story is how dark the darkness got.