Suicide

If you've been following my blog, you are aware of my struggles with bullying. If not, and the title of this blog caught your attention, you should probably go back and read my last blog post. 

I'm coming to you with this because its something that's been on my mind for a bit now. 

When I was a sophomore in High School, things were rough. I'd already survived 10 years of relentless cruelty. My grades were horrible. I felt like I was the issue in every situation. At home, at school, in my friend triangles. I felt like it was wrong of me to feel like that, and how dare I, even for a second, think about myself. Because it WAS my fault, weather I thought so or not and it was time for me to just get over it and do something for someone else because I mattered the least on the face of this earth. 

I was fueled by anger. I was angry that my mom was always mad at me. Mad that I was never enough. I was mad that everything was my fault. Mad that I cared. Mad that things hurt me. Mad that I cried because I should be stronger than all of that. I'm better than that. I hated myself, I hated my family. I just hated. I sat in dark, angry hatred. I was SO MAD. 

I wanted to be alone. Just give me an hour! But even when I was alone, I was haunted by my parents voices.
"Of course she didn't do the dishes. She's the only one she cares about" 
"shes being a baby" 
"shes depressed. She feels so sorry for herself" 

But it wasn't their words. It wasn't really them haunting my brain. I was inside my head. I was trapped in a world of constant chaos. 

I was being abandoned by my friends, my family, everyone. I can't even explain it. I was so alone. SO forsaken. I was rock bottom. I was lower than rock bottom. I was desperate. Trapped inside of myself, clawing at the walls of my body to escape.  

Suicide. 

That's it. That's how I would escape. 

Well obviously, I didn't. But I battled with it. It was a crazy fight, and one I fought alone. I heard my fake parents leering at me in my head: 
"Of course she committed suicide. Shes too lazy to do anything else" 
"She just wants attention." 
"She was always so extreme." 
"Just another bad choice" 

All it did was make me hate myself, for being so pathetic. And my real parents. Because in my head, they were horrible. 

I fought against myself. Most of me hated God, too. How could He let me go 10 whole entire years of unfathomable emotional pain. How could He let me go so long, so alone?  How could He let my sister leave? HMM? I wanted answers! I knew God was there, but I was angry at Him. What a traitor. 

Yet another part of me was crying out "Georgia, you know this isn't you!" 

I remember one night in particular. I was having a hard time. I wasn't helping out around the house. I pretty much had straight F's and i was trying to convince myself I didn't care. I got into a fight with my mom. I had been dishonest and betrayed her trust, and the worlds just exploded from me. 

"MOM. YOU KNOW THIS IS NOT ME. I DON'T KNOW WHATS WRONG BUT YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T ME." 

I was desperate for her to understand that there was someone else inside of me that was not supposed to be there.  It's been a long process. I became less suicidal after weeks of talking to a therapist, which I was adamant about not needing at first, talking to my mom. I had no secrets. She saw my scars. I told her what was going on. I transferred schools. I had to let go of so much. I had been a rubber band, trying to hold too much together and I was fraying and breaking quickly. 

I transferred schools and said goodbye to everything I had known middle of last year, when I started my blog. Well. Not quite last year. February of 2017. I no longer keep things from my mom. She knows everything. I talk to her. I let her know when I hurt. When things are wrong. Yeah, we get in some pretty monumental fights. Not everything is okay and good. I'm healing. I think we all are. We've all got out bumps and bruises from running around, screaming with our eyes closed. 

Lesson is: Suicide is not the answer. Talk to someone. Talk to your mom or a trusted teacher. Talk to SOMEONE. Even if its just a friend. Be prepared. Things sometimes get worse before they get better. Be prepared to feel alone and hurt, even after you talk to someone, but know, you're not in this alone. You are going to change the entire world.

 I started this blog as an outlet. My original plan was to have braid tutorials, nail polish idea, basic things. But this thing has turned into an outreach that I never expected to have. I'm amazed everyday at the people who's lives I've touched. At the lives I continue to touch. I'm in awe of the beauty that I have been able to turn my pain, my turmoil, my issues, into. I was Morticia's bouquet of flowers,  but my buds are growing back (Adams Family reference). I am so excited to keep growing. I'm so excited to keep shining light. 

Don't give up. You've got a light to shine, and I am so SO excited to watch you light up the world. There is hope, no matter who you are, where you are, where you've been, or where you're going. 







Disclaimer: My parents have always been extremely supportive. The dialog I gave as examples were words formed in my own head during the rough time. My parents have never belittled me like that.