Day 5 (Here we go challenge) - A time you thought about ending your own life

     That idea has came to everbody's mind at least once, hasn't it? When we're struggling, we feel like suicide is the option. An escape. But is it really?

     This era of my life started when I was fourteen. It was my first high school year, the classes were harder, I didn't have very good relationships with my classmates, I didn't like my appereance. I was just more and more sad, my colourful wardrobe changed to mostly black and I listened to metal and sad music.

     Then I first cut myself. I made a new tumblr blog which was only black and white, with quotes of depressed people, pictures of wounds, razor blades and gifs from films about suicide.

     This continued. It was still harder and harder to hide the cuts and scars under the clother and bracelets. My mum had no idea about anything that was happening to me. Then I decided to lose weight. I was a bit overweight, that's true, but I was utterly healthy. And so I stopped eating. Not completely, first I cut out junk food, sweets, a few meals. Then I started counting calories. That was the worst mistake of my life. The daily amout decreased to deadly portions of food. If I continued, I wouldn't have been here now.

     When I was sixteen, I was sent to a psychiatrist. Mum found out about everything. I had lost 30 pounds (14 kilos), though I was not underweight (BMI of 19) so I didn't have to go inpatient. I was prescribed Zoloft and psychotherapy. I got a few diagnosis like severe depression, anorexia nervosa, borderline personality disorder, social anxiety disorder. 

     Nothing really changed. I gained some weight but not because of recovery. Because of binge attacks. I felt even worse about myself.

     They sent me inpatient. I stayed a month in a psychiatric hospital. I got two kinds of new pills. It was not very helpful, just a threat that if I don't stop harming myself I will be sent there again. Or to a clinic which is apparently worse. I didn't really stop but I cut very less then before.

     Two months later, at the Good Friday I attempted a suicide. I cut the vein on my wrist. I was sent to ER and psychiatric ambulance, but for my surprise they didn't keep me there. After all, it was the holiday.

     The following summer was even harder. I had gained all my weight back, was very depressed, but I didn't cut myself anymore. I was surviving.

     Then before Christmas that year (I was seventeen already), my eating disorder got the best of me again. This time it was bulimia. I had episodes of binge eating and purging, and starving. Untill May I lost 25 pounds again. I was worse then ever. I was so bad my doctors were thinking about sending me to a clinic in our capital where I'd have to stay for about a year and so I'd have to pause my studies.

     But then I met her. And she changed my life completely. (See also this article). It was like a miracle. I stopped thinking about food almost at all, became happy. I didn't believe it would ever be possible but it was. No wonder they say that sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone and then magical things happen. I'm so graceful for her. 

     It does get better. I promise it does. Sooner or later all will be well. Just fight, please. Don't let the demons get you down. You're strong enough! And God will save you, like He saved me.