Jennifer's Story

Growing up, I always thought something was inherently wrong with me.  I was first diagnosed with major depression in 1998. I started therapy and taking medication. I became full of hope as I believed this was going to “fix” me.  I was wrong.  I had suicidal thoughts and as time went on I prayed to God to just put me out of my misery.  Being in and out of therapy for 5 years, I felt hopeless and trapped. Trapped that I didn’t want to be alive and knowing if I killed myself it would hurt my family.  I was scared to really let anyone in.  I was ashamed of who I was and what I was doing. Then one day in May of 2003, I ended up inpatient for the first time in a mental institution.  I cut myself and had to get stitches.  I was mortified, not only was my secret out but I was behind multiple locked doors, my shoelaces were taken and I was told I could only use the phone to make one phone call to let someone know I was there. I have never been to prison, but this sure felt like it had been described.  Only three times a week for an hour could I have 2 people at a time visit me.  Now I was praying to let me out of there, I was scared.  But the best thing happened while I was there.  I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. 

Finally, something seemed to describe exactly what I was feeling.  Slowly I started to let go of my secrets in therapy. I was sexually abused as a 6 year old. This led to my whirlwind of growing mental illnesses. By 7 years old, I was self harming by bruising myself and pulling a belt around my neck.  But it was 20 years of this self abuse before I understood what I was doing and why.  I had few friends my entire life and always felt no one liked me.  The reality is I didn’t and still don’t like myself.  I have a chronic emptiness inside.  Most days I feel “numb”; like I feel no emotions.  Other days I feel so overwhelmed, I want to die.  I am almost 39 years old now.  For me, everyday still remains a struggle.  I have multiple diagnosis’: Borderline Personality Disorder, Major Depression, PTSD, Anxiety Disorder, and Bipolar 2.  I am disabled and in therapy 3 times a week.  I find my little glimmer of hope through seeing others suffer yet never give up.  Most importantly…I know I am not alone.  I want to share with you this poem that I wrote that I feel explains the battle within myself with what I am told vs what my mind tells me.

You know what to say
I fail to listen

You say there is hope
I can’t find the light

You believe I have worth
I know the evil within

You tell me - keep trying
I repeatedly fail

You think I am strong
I buckle within

You tell me I’m not crazy
I have no sane actions

You request I forgive me
I knowingly do wrong

You insist I deserve love
I will not show the real me

You ask what I need
I deserve no desire

You tried to help
I waited too late

I plea you will listen…
The pain is too deep

It cannot be undone
Stop wasting your time

This Hell I have earned!