People spend so much time hating other people that they start to hate themselves. I don’t necessarily hate very many people. I just observe people all the time and I notice how ill-mannered they are to others who have done nothing to them. It’s a process when you’re trying to teach yourself how to love and care about yourself. You go through many journal entries, arguments at home, and you have to learn how to get through a bad day.
When something big happens, I tend to write it down in a journal. I used to write in one all the time until my mother invaded my privacy to read my journal. I stopped writing all of my problems down and kept them inside to dwell on. That eventually caught up to me and hurt me deeply. I had to start hiding my journal under my mattress. I didn’t write in it for a few years until recently when a friend died. My mom grew suspicious because I went into a semi-deep depression. I blamed myself for my friends not wanting to talk to me,
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I had already planned out how I was going to do it. I just needed a bad day for my reasoning. I woke up with a bad start due to not sleeping well because my cat did not want to sleep. I got ready and got into the truck late and didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I went through band and got an attitude from someone close since “I didn’t stay on my drum”. I got back into the truck and immediately started getting yelled at for not having a job so I confessed my desire to end my hurt and pain. I then got threatened to be taken to a hospital instead of being told what I needed to hear. I needed someone to ask how my mental wellness was. I was on the floor begging for someone to be there for me, I no longer had the urge to end my life because my mom apologized for not being there when I needed her and promised to talk to me about myself when I needed to. I realized that I had people there for me all along, but I just needed my
It took a lot of self-convincing, but I finally mustered up all the courage I had left within me and went off to seek my family. I hesitantly got off the bench that I had been hogging for the last 20 minutes or so of grieving and started walking towards the source of which everything had begun with in the first place: the bathrooms. I checked every stall and corner of both genders’ bathrooms, which I was desperately anticipating to catch one of my family members in, only to find them either empty or people with apologetic faces once they would see the state I was in. This, however, didn’t stop me from continuing my chase. I ran out of the bathrooms and stalked towards the bench where I had been sobbing uncontrollably. As I had expected, it was empty with no luggage or other signs to indicate that my family was there when I had been gone so my anxiety kicked in and told me to figure something out before I have another breakdown. Subsequently, I went out of my comfort zone and went in pursuit for them
We had Child Protective Service constantly coming to my home to check on us and were placed in foster care for a week. This lead me to have suicidal thoughts and was difficult to overcome due to the fact that I felt guilty and believed that the only way to avoid the abuse was to take my life away. I had a therapist and had to be placed in a crisis center for weeks. Later, i realized that I had more to do with my life and that suicide wasn't the right way to
During one of my shifts at the Montfort emergency room, there was a young woman that had just been admitted after having attempted suicide. She was alone, scared and confused by what was happening. The confusion caused her to be extremely distraught and none of the healthcare staff were able to console her.
I always had a feeling that I’d end up in psych ward, never knew what for though, but I always thought I’d have a better reason than I do now. Long story short: I tried to kill myself.
The following day at school, I told Mrs. Ogle about what was going on. She is my saving angel, because she told me that it was all right, and that she went through the similar issues. Mrs. Ogle is still my guardian angel. On bad days she is still my go to person. One of the things that stays in my head is that Mrs. Ogle told me that she would pray for me and would always be there for
The sound of my alarm buzzed while I struggled to get out of bed. I wiped my eyes and got out of bed. My mind was packed with thoughts and emotions. That day was a very special day for me. I had prepared for that day for months if not years. Just thinking about it, made me nervous. It was tryout day for the high school golf team. Even though I was on varsity since freshman year, I was still nervous because there was always the possibility that you can get booted if your performance is sub-par. After staring at the wall for a solid minute, I shook myself out of the trance I was in and continued with my routine. Minutes passed, and I was ready to go to school. I loaded my car up with my clubs and started for school. I had a hard time keeping
People often have warped views on you, which in turn can warp your own. Never let this happen. Be aware of what people think of you, and accept your faults. Never take offence to what people say and think about you this will not help anything. Everyone has faults, and taking offence harms your journey. Accepting faults makes you stronger as a person, and strengthens your being.
Never once was I made to feel like I was not alone with my depression.
I was looking for comfort but couldn’t find it anywhere until the police came. Their presence felt as if a whole burden was released off of me. I felt peace, comfort and I felt safe. This is one of the reasons why I want to become an officer; I want others to feel as safe as I did that
Everyone has a former self or selves that they may or may not want be aware of. I would like to use myself as an example. We will begin with eight year-old me. At this stage, I was a small, annoying, shy but rambunctious child from Long Island. Thankfully, I was aware of my annoyance at that time. I was aware of my behavior at eight years old. That horrified me. I got in touch with my eight year old self by remembering my childhood and where I came from. I would ask family members about me and how I was. Most of the time I did not like the answers I would receive but I cannot change the past and how I was. Consequently, I decided that my childhood is my childhood and I have to accept it because it is my past and where I am from and so that is how I kept in touch with eight year old Leah. Now onto thirteen year old me who was a complete naive trainwreck. I gave a little description earlier about thirteen year old me and her experience with keeping a notebook. Middle school is also a time where puberty begins and everyone knows that is the most challenging stage for a young child. Therefore not only was I naive, I was also an emotional rollercoaster. From then, I wanted no part in that chapter of my life. I wanted it to be closed. I got back in touch with thirteen year old Leah when the notebook incident occurred a few months ago. From that point on I was aware of who I was and I can say that I am in touch with that person, but I know I will
I think this is because humans have forgotten how to be happy. It’s not their fault - it’s not easy figuring out how to be happy in these days of anything-but-moderation.” - A.S. King Have empathy - understand how others feel. Remember that you are not the only person that has problems. Before you judge put yourself in someone else’s place.
I was there for all my friends as a support in that situation as they were there for
It seemed like a normal day when I entered Mrs. A’s AP Language and Composition class, but little did I know that she was going to assign a very important project that was going to take forever. I took my seat and wrote down what was on the board. Then I sat patiently and waited for Mrs. A to come explain what we were doing today. When the tardy bell rang, Mrs. A glided into the room and gave us all a stack of papers. She then proceeded to discuss our upcoming assignment, a memoir. As she explained the very important assignment, I wondered whom I would write about. No one really came to mind to write about and I thought for sure I would never be able to get this thing done on time. I finally decided that I would write in on my mother, Kari Jenson. I knew I would probably put the project off until the very end and do it the weekend before even though it would get on my mom’s nerves. Putting work off was just how I did everything, it worked for me. When I arrived home from school that day, I told mom about the project. I told her I would most likely write it about her and she was overjoyed.
Have you ever had a time in your life where you felt like everything was just dumped on you? I did, and undoubtedly it happened just as I came to school at State University. That saying, “When it rains, it pours,” just seemed to fit me perfectly. Within a two week period one of my friends from high school committed suicide, my grandma went in the hospital, and my boyfriend broke up with me. Yet, from these experiences in my life, I grew, more than I have ever grown before. This is why I am writing about it. Although, everyone goes through hard times, there were not many people out there who related to me. That is why it was hard to get help when it was needed. Maybe someone can learn from my experience and be just as strong as I was.
When I looked in the rearview mirror is when I knew it was all over. June 25, 2013 was the most tragic day in my life. It was not until that day that I realized how much I appreciate my life and my family. I was on the freeway headed towards the Galleria in Houston, TX, passing the tall Texaco building on this bright sunny afternoon, when everything went downhill. I remember seeing all of the cars in front of me have their bright red tail lights on because everyone was coming to a stop. As soon as I slowed down, I looked into my rearview mirror to see a beige car not slowing down at all but instead looking down at his phone texting, it was already too late for me to do anything. I felt as if my life were over and there was nothing anyone could do, I was sixteen years old when I had my first car accident. I learned that I should have stayed home the afternoon I got into my first car accident. That afternoon I remember gripping my steering wheel so tightly because I was so nervous about the car behind me that I could feel all of the ridges and grooves throughout my entire steering wheel and every indention in my steering