On Saturday, the first of September I shared something on all of my social media platforms (minus twitter but does it really count though?) that I’ve wanted to share for a very long time. I just didn’t have the courage to do so. Here is what I shared.
I always hated the word depression not for the reasons some might think. The man that caused my depression and anxiety is the same man who justified his abuse with his own depression. He was fighting his demons but in the process he was creating mine. I’m not saying this to receive pity or play the victim card. I’m finally sharing this because maybe it will set me free. I will no longer be the one who is ashamed of his actions. HE should be the one that is ashamed. So here goes; I was emotionally, physically and quite sickeningly sexually abused. It drove me towards suicidal thoughts and I quite terrifyingly was close to ending it all. But I didn’t because I was stubborn enough to want to push through. To kick, scream and give it all I have. For a very long time I hated connecting myself to the word depression because it was just too close to home but I’m done hiding or spinning myself into the web of denial. 2018 has been one ugly and beautiful year. Many great things happened but at the same time many things that spun me in a very bad state of depression happened. Things I will probably share one day when I’m ready. It became so bad where I had to seek help from others before I did something stupid and that’s when I learned how fucking good it feels to let it out. It’s no longer my dirty little secret, some heavy burden I carry around. It’s my past but not my future. Going forward I will surely have a few bad days but I vow to myself to always fight and not surrender. The depression won’t take my happiness away, not anymore.
Sharing something to the entire world that only a handful of people knew about me was incredibly difficult. Not even my own parents knew this. The ‘secret’ so to say was only known by my husband and best friend. That’s it. I’ve made it no secret that 2018 is kicking my ass. I’ve experienced heartbreak in this year that I can’t even begin to comprehend. Even though sharing this was incredibly difficult. I was scared. Beyond scared. What will people think of me? Who will I hurt in the process of sharing this? I wanted to feel free of the heavy burden that is this ‘secret’ so I did it. It felt really good. It’s out there in the world. It doesn’t define me whatsoever but it’s no longer this heavy burden I carry around. It feels good. I’m still scared, don’t get me wrong there. It’s still scary but I feel lighter.
These last two months offline was incredibly good for me but at the same time, not so much. So much has happened, I’ve cried harder I’ve ever cried in my entire life. I went offline to improve my mental health and in the beginning I was just allowing the depression to take root of me. Push me down to the point where I could barely breathe. After joining online counseling and reaching out to a therapist, I’ve decided if I want to honestly improve my mental health I need to give it my all. The first step was to share my story. The second step is to set myself a firm routine and get back to the things I’m passionate about. Writing. Stories and blogs. Working out.
I want to make September my month. My month to push myself, try out new things and heal.
Thank you so much for reading and I will see you in a click!
PS. You can find all things technical about what to expect of my blog moving forward by clicking here — https://butterflyfingers.com/2018/09/02/a-brand-new-start-what-to-expect-from-me-in-september-2018/ —