Death and Resurrection

by Mitchelle Aduda

Hello lovely human being reading this,

I hope you're having a good day and have an amazing week... I'm stalling. I don't know how to start this.

I'm kinda nervous because I'm about to let you in on some little secrets about myself. But you know what let's dive in...

At this point you're probably wondering what the hell is this girl going to say... and can she just get to the interesting part already. I'll get there. This article will be about mental health and specifically my journey to get help for my illness.

My name is Mitchelle Florence Aduda. I'm nineteen and I'm a student, and most importantly I'm a survivor and a fighter. I have survived three suicide attempts. I have fought to get my life back and to get my mind healthy. It is still an ongoing struggle, but I am winning.

Where to start.. This is getting a bit awkward for me. I suffer from depression and anxiety. It took awhile for me to finally get diagnosed and put on treatment. For six years I had been suffering, but I did not understand why. I was an angry and hurt person. I lashed out at people. I am sure you have heard the phrase "Hurt people, hurt people." Unfortunately, I hurt a lot of people during that period because I wanted them to feel just a little of what I felt . To feel the anger, the inexplicable sadness I felt. It was not right nor will I ever justify that but that's what happened.

I was a pretty withdrawn person. Always stayed in my little corner as you can guess I did not have lots of friends. I just had three and I am so thankful for those girls because they honestly kept me going. They were kind to me even when I was horrible to them. They took everything I would throw at them and respond with love. They listened to me when I cried and they would reassure me every single day that I would be okay. For some that does not seem like much but that meant everything to me. They meant the world to me and they still do.

This part we are going to delve in to how mental illness feels like cause I get asked that question a lot. At this point, let me warn you that there may be triggers so if you are struggling with same issues I was or you are recovering please skip this part.

So having a mental illness is exhausting. You are having a constant battle within yourself. Having depression and anxiety is like being scared and tired at the same time. It is the fear of failure but no urge to be productive. It's wanting friends but hate socializing. It's wanting to be alone but not wanting to be lonely. It's feeling everything at once then feeling paralyzing numb. A lot of nights especially for me, I could not sleep. It's like you are physically tired but you're mind just will not let you rest. My mind would always be racing with all this thoughts and questions. You feel horrible. You're self esteem is in the gutter. For a whole year after high school I would not leave the house. I left when I had to or when I was forced to and that is where my anxiety came in. I had this terrible fear of leaving the house and when I did I would count down the minutes till I could go home. People would invite me out but I would always turn them down because I would tell myself or rather my anxiety would tell me "He is probably inviting you out for pity... They really don't want you going out... You will spoil the fun with your ugly self and your sadness," and just like that I wouldn't go. But now here is the funny thing, later on I would hate myself for not going out for not being able to do normal things like other people. There's no winning. You go out; all you want to do is run home. You don't go; you hate yourself. Then one day you decide to end it all cause you're tired of feeling awful at this point you're numb. Once you're in that frame of mind nothing will stop you from ending your life. Trust me I tried thrice. My last attempt, I drank a bottle of vodka and took all the pills I could find in our medicine cabinet. Clearly it didn't work out. When I survived that last attempt I was like, "Okay. Damn. I'm still here. Since I suck at dying, let's try living."

So I told my parents and at first they didn't take me seriously, but this time I was determined to live. I went to a friend of mine - she's actually my doctor - and I told her everything. She helped me find a therapist and I started going to therapy and I was put on medication. And here I am about 8 months later still going to therapy, but off medication which is a great milestone for me and most importantly living and not just being. I'm happy and I am healthy. I am not all the way there. I still have some off days, but I don't let myself sit in my sadness or anxiety. I've learnt some coping mechanisms and now I can function like any other human being. I have this zeal to live and experience life because for a long while I was a walking corpse.

I hope this shows anyone out there experiencing the issues I have mentioned above that there is hope it does get better. All you need to do is reach out and get some help. You will feel better than this maybe not yet, but you will. You just keep living until you are alive again.

Last but not least be kind to people. You do not know what battles that person is fighting. Check in with your friends and family. I know life gets in the way and people are busy, but that single text or call to see how they are doing could mean a lot to them.

And if today all you did was hold yourself together, I'm proud of you.