What are you waiting for?

Every day I would cry to sleep, smothering myself with a pillow and praying that I didn't wake up. Visions of my funeral became dreams rather than nightmares. Morning light only taunted and teased me. Before I pulled the covers off, I surrendered. No appetite for breakfast or good mornings. The air still stunk of yesterday's argument. Named and blamed as the "hormonal moody teenager", my bedroom became my prison. Bottled with rage and hurt. I carried this unknown grudge for the rest of the day...week...weeks...month...and months. 

Self harming was my next cry for help. Scanning my room, I collected scissors, a metal compass and broken rulers to inflict my wrists. Some days, tears trickled alongside my blood beads. Other days, I didn't have the balls to drag that blade across my skin. A plaster stuck over the smallest scratch. It was carefully positioned - peeking under my school blazer's sleeve. I admit it was attention seeking, but I was going through a bloody big mind battle with no visual scars to prove it. With no friends who understood me, I was alone. I wanted to scream, but I was shy. I wanted to cry, but it didn't solve anything. I wanted to run, but where would I go? 

I overdosed myself. Every step I took, I swallowed a paracetamol tablet. Rushed to hospital, I was ready to accept my fate. Prescribed with anti-depressants and counselling sessions, I felt like a zombie. Dazed and confused, I viewed life through a drugged smokescreen. I felt nothing - better than hating everything I suppose? 

Cutting my long story short, I had enough of feeling sorry myself. My thought process had to change. Luckily, I knew many strong inspirational women. Jealous of their lifestyles and careers, I asked for their advice. They gave me that much needed kick up the backside and said "Well what are you waiting for?" I regained the little strength I had and complimented my reflection every morning. I studied for my GCSEs, A Levels and a degree - and passed them with the top grades. I wanted to carve a life...my life, just not out of my skin. 

Fast forward to 2015, I share my past battle with you whilst trembling - writing about a personal experience online is always scary! Depression robbed my childhood because I let it. Hindsight is a powerful yet wicked thing - I wish I could shake my teenaged self and "Hey! Great things are planned for you!" I know the response would be a two fingered salute. 

I am glad I experienced the above otherwise I wouldn't be grateful for my life I live today. I am proud that I was able to conquer my demons. The key to my survival: set goals! What do you want achieve? Listen to Beyoncé's I was here, it speaks truth. Find a hobby and preach it! My love for theatre has opened many amazing doors, including my own theatre blog. If you're suffering, please believe me - hope exists. I just hate to break it to you - the only person who can change you is YOU! So I'm going to repeat what my fairy godmothers told me "What are YOU waiting for?" Go get them, survivor! 

User Comments
Anon-1

It's awesome you have come so far.  Good luck for 2016 x