*trigger warning: this piece mentions suicide*
My story starts many years ago as an eight-year-old. I was abused in foster care, did not fit in, and was teased. I tried suicide but thank god I was unsuccessful. I never told anyone about the abuse or the suicide attempt and did not feel anyone cared. A few years later I was able to start counseling where I began to understand that it was not my fault. I still experienced depression and was still struggling to function in the world.
Then I had my first real anxiety attack. I felt like a caged animal: pacing, crying, hyperventilating, and not knowing what was happening. There were days when, no matter what kind of encouragement I got, I told myself I could not leave the house. Then my depression meds did not seem to be helping anymore. I ended up in the E.R. for something else and they asked me those vital questions that everyone gets asked now. I was scared, but I admitted I was thinking a lot about taking my life again. With lots of counseling and new meds I am seeing things better.
My advice is talk to someone, reach out, talk to a doctor because they can get you help. Your brain is just like any other organ in your body. Sometimes it needs help too! Don't be ashamed; reach out. You are worth it. AND REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE NOT WEAK!