Taking Care of Me

This past school year has been one of the hardest years of my life. 

It began in my first semester of Junior year in college when I went in for a regular health check after being sick for a few days. It was nothing unusual for me. I was having stomach pains and shortness of breath that is usually a result of my stomach disorder and bad gallbladder combining together. However, I was encouraged to get checked out any way since it had been a week. They agreed that the illness was most likely provoked by the two, but they wanted to give me a regular check up just to make sure. During this process they found a few things that gave them concern. A couple of lumps spread throughout my body, and an abnormality on my thyroid. They told me it was most likely nothing to worry about. But they asked me if I had a history with thyroid problems in my family. "Not that I know of." I answered, and moved on with my day. Later on that day I called my mom up and asked her if there was a history. She got a little nervous and told me that there was, on both my Dad and my Mom's side, a history of cancer. This started the long process of tests and tests and tests that accompanied the cancer scare. 

For the next few months I went to see at least one doctor a week if not every other week. It was only a possibility, but it was a strong possibility that terrified me. Thoughts went racing through my mind about how much this would change my life. My RD (my boss in residential life) asked me to consider what I would do if it turns out it is cancer. My thoughts became so unbearable. My Sr. RA and I met up for a one-on-one at the school cafeteria. A one-on-one was a period of time set up between another staff member and me designed to check up on each other and get to know each other. During this time I shared with her a little about my past. She asked if I had ever gone to talk to someone about it. I had seen a few counselors and pastors in the past, but I always faked my way through counseling and never told the complete story to pastors. So she encouraged me to go to the counseling center on campus. We walked right over and got the information. The biggest encouragement for me was less about myself, and more about my residents. I thought that if I went this would help inspire my residents to start attending as well when they needed to. At the beginning the counselor helped me with controlling my thoughts so I could continue learning in class. But eventually we moved on to more.

Long story short my first semester of my junior year in college was very long, treacherous, scary, trying, and so many other things. Unfortunately towards the end of the semester the doctors gave me more confusion than answers. However, I have developed a whole new heart for those with cancer because I realized all the pain that went with it, physical, emotional, and spiritual. But throughout the process I was on a spiritual high. God was showing me so much through the pain. Residential life was treating me amazingly, and even though they were having a rough time themselves my residents were the best thing I could have ever asked for. I just loved being able to be there for them. No matter what that meant. 

I went into my winter break confused and nervous. I knew I needed to attend more doctor's appointments, but yet again they just led to more confusion. I was back at home where I feel comfortable, but I don't necessarily feel like I have a purpose. But I used that time to relax and refuel by hanging out with those who pour into me. 

I came back to campus ready to conquer. For a while I was doing really well. Things were looking up. Then out of no where things turned again. I had been dealing with things in counseling that I had not talked about in years, and never addressed before. I began feeling really sick again. I had given up on doctors. I felt like a failure at my job. I felt very alone. Anxiety began to build and build and build until I felt like every part of me was going to combust. My mental health began to drop. I began to suffer panic attack after panic attack. But these attacks were not like the ones I have experienced before. Instead I would sit still for what seemed like a short amount of time, but was actually a lot longer. Flashes of terrible things began to flip through my mind. Every negative feeling I had ever felt swirled around and around in my head. No matter how hard I tried I could not escape and things kept getting darker and darker. Inside I was screaming for help, but my lips were silent. 

One day everything within me wanted to explode. I no longer felt safe alone. Thoughts of suicide began to run through my mind. Very unwelcome thoughts, but they were provoked by the idea that things just might be better off. This scared me. So I went into the hallway of my dorm thinking that I would be safe there. There was no way I was going to do something there. I began to crochet to keep my hands busy. I watched a TV show on my computer to keep my mind amused. But it was not working. I could feel the tension building. No matter how hard I tried to shake the thoughts they just kept flooding in. Next thing I know there is a gash in my hand. My crochet hook had now become a weapon to myself. I dropped it and felt immediate shame. This was an old coping mechanism that I had not used for years. I was doing so well. I don't even remember making the decision. 

Self-harm is the physical manifestation of an internal wound that is so deep this flesh wound could never touch it, but it does bring temporary relief. And that is what makes it scary. It is relief. But it is only temporary, and can never completely heal the wound inside. So it will strive harder, and cut deeper, but it will never satisfy. That is the danger. 

Knowing this I knew I needed help. My counselor already knew that I was struggling. She helped talk me through how I got there, and what I could do to prevent it from happening again. I told my RD to get more help. It was a hard journey with a lot of pain, but I can truly say that within a few weeks I was done with self-harm and ready to move on. This was a huge step considering most of my self-harm episodes lasted months in the past. I got on some medication to help heal the wound that was now infected, and got on some other meds to help heal the wound of anxiety. But I knew medication alone would not completely heal it. 

Everything within me was saying not to share this. Just keep it in and deal with it alone. But then I began to think. What if one of my friends was suffering this way? Would I just tell them to keep this in? No. I would tell them that they can't just shut up and let it win. They have to fight. So this is me fighting. This me telling my suffering to be quiet, and let me heal. 

There is a long journey ahead of me, but I am ready to take it. This all forced me into one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make... leaving Res. Life for next year. I hated making that decision, and still wish to this day that I did not have to make it. All my dreams at night since leaving have been of how much I wish I did not have to. But the truth is I need to start focusing on myself. I cannot keep living this way. Pouring all of myself into others, but forgetting to pour into myself and ignoring the real pain. So I have begun the journey. 

First, I went to the other side of the world on the trip of a lifetime to New Zealand. While there I just let myself enjoy the experience. I poured myself into all of it, and challenged myself to not let fear take me over, but to instead take in every moment and let it all sink in. I climbed Mt. Maungaraho. Which if you know me, it was an accomplishment of a lifetime. It was terrifying as inches from you feet you saw the 190 meter drop, but it felt amazing to have conquered it. It was the perfect metaphor for my life at the moment. I was trying as hard as I could to hold on and keep balance while still being well aware of the steep downhill drop that awaited if I ever let go. Yet, I conquered it, and came out on top. 

Now I am working on focusing more on myself. I have been spending more time with God, who unfortunately got put on the back burner when I was going through so much. I have been trying to eat better, and have been exercising more often. Not in the motive to lose weight or anything like that, but more as a way to release pent up anxiety. I have been speaking out when normally I would have kept my mouth shut with the idea that I was not worth the trouble provoked by my words. I am allowing myself to lean more on others while keeping myself open so then can lean on me. I am not turning down opportunities for social events as I usually do because of the fear that I will arrive and be lost in the commotion. For example, yesterday I went to a skate night with my church and decided not to place my happiness in others but rather in myself and God. So when I got there I had a great time because I was not relying on someone to focus on me the whole time in order to be happy.

Despite all that happened this year I learned so much. I learned the importance of taking care of myself. I learned the importance of getting over my insecurity in relationships and resting in the idea that people actually care about me. I have learned that speaking up does not always mean tragedy, but can instead lead to growth. I have learned that growing is uncomfortable, but completely necessary. Most of all I have learned that I am worth it, and I need to finally start taking care of me. 

Though I know I will miss Res. Life immensely I am excited to start this journey of discovering myself and healing within this next year.