Healing Stories

Beyond the Outside Smile
By:  Jessi Shadowhawk (Koyko Calamity)

I was a young baby when I almost had life ripped from me. I was only nine months old when an unknown heart problem sent my life for a loop. Thankfully, my mom shook me and my heart started beating again. She thought at first it may been the wrong thing to do because of the leary ideas of shaken baby syndrome but the doctor said she did the right thing. I lived on a heart monitor and this problem still lies within my body today, they are unsure of what causes it still to this day. I was pretty young when I experienced my mom and dad's divorce on December 19, 1991 when I was only 1.5 years old. The last thing I remember was having a coffee cup thrown and shattering over my crib at only 12 months old. They say babies can't remember what sounds and what they see but I did. I remembered the sounds, to this day I can't stand something crashing or breaking around me.

As I grew up with only a mom I looked to other people to be my "dad." I found two people in my family who felt perfectly like my dad. My first one was my grandpa but he passed in front of me when I was 6 years old and 3 other family members after him died all within 2 weeks after the last one. It was not a fun time for me. During this time I had witnessed another death but today I don't remember her or even being near her because the trauma has been blocked from my mind. My second dad had suddenly disappered.  My speech therapist had to help me threw this time. They tried to make my life normal by letting my Uncle Roy be my "dad" at school. It didn't work I would just push people away. My mom saw I wasn't doing well in school and decided to a drastic measure before thinking about taking me to therapist.

She put me in band, my life did a 360. My grades boosted, my attitude changed, and learned self dicipline. At end of high school I was 2.8 GPA. My mom was proud. All through out my school life years, my mom tried to get me diagnosed with a disorder that would explain why I could learn nothing worked. I started being an adovcate for myself at only 11 years old. Later, I'm now in college. I'm learning and able to keep between a 2.5 and 3.0 GPA at all times except for this past year where I ultimately I had my worse struggle. My third "dad" passed away to Stage 4, Lung Cancer. I was out where he lived for two days before he passed on December 13, 2012. My world was yet again flipped upside down. I had to start seeing my school therapist, just to be able to keep up with school and be able to keep my mentality there for school. I was getting frustrated with myself and she realized it. She then asked me this critcal question which lead her to realize that I had more on my plate than an average person. I have Autism (Asperger's), PTSD, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Mixed Bipolar, and many other things that affects my learning and mentality to keep up with other people.

Through tears, struggles, pain, and sorrow. I overcame with the help of music. Music was the only thing that I had to cling to when everything was stripped away. I learned to hum at just 8 months old to Amazing Grace when I wasn't asleep. At 5, I had a lap organ, something I practiced every day. At 11, I  recieved my flute then at 12 my piccolo. Now I have over 13 different instruments but four main ones, voice, flute, piccolo, and piano. My favorite genere is Classical. This is what has helped me to keep going and heal.

By: Dandara Sword

I fought against anxiety since i was a little kid and almost turned into a suicide teen. I've already tried it twice.
Ii have 2 kids (grown ups now) and had 2 pos part depressions. i tried to treat with psychiatrist and psychologists and got better.
After a spontaneous abortion, i had a strong anemia for about 15 yrs. 
When i was around 36, my son was hit by a car and almost died.
We fought very hard to get him alive and well.  When he started to walk my daughter started to fell strong pains for all body.
My daughter has fibromyalgia since she was 12 but the diagnosys came when she was 20.
Meanwhile, a medical error pulled me into a panic disorder and depression. i'm free of panic but not the anxiety and depression. But, after i found out i would never get ride of both living with a psychopat ( my ex husband) i got the divorce and i'm healing. Not as fast i wanted but still healing.
It's not a "cute" story, but I'm healing myself, body and soul and I will happily share my story in your blog if you think it will help someone.
My daughter is my business partner in 2 small shops

Danra Swords

My Story
By: Anonymous

Ok this is about my struggle with depression as I'm sure you've guessed. I've tried to tell it the best I can. There is so much I wasn't able to express or find the words to describe and a few details I couldn't bring myself to share, but I hope I was able to clearly paint a picture of the biggest most important fight in my life. The fight for my life. The time before I was diagnosed was the hardest in my life and I have been through some shit, so that's saying something. I think I have always been like this but didn't know and it wasn't bad enough for anyone to notice.

11 yrs ago (really almost 12) when I got pregnant with my son is when it climaxed. I had already been struggling with it before hand from too much stress and the pregnancy just pushed me over the edge. Not because I wasn't happy about it, I was even if his father is and was a douche. I'd always wanted another child but didn't think it would happen. Anyway the pregnancy pushed me over the edge. I suppose from the changes in hormones and the whole body chemistry thing. Everyday it got worse. I was exhausted all the time and found it harder and harder to think clearly, like when you first wake up, only I didn't see it then, I was still in denial. I wasn't gaining weight with my pregnancy, if I gained 2 lbs I lost it the next week. I wasn't eating much except when my son's father forced me to. My work suffered since I found it almost impossible to get up in the morning and eventually I lost my job because of it. I had no support back then, my bf was an asshole, my dad doesn't believe in depression, he thought I was just being lazy, and my mom is an old fashioned Mexican lady so she didn't believe in it either.

My poor son was only 11 back then and had to take on responsibility for himself because I just didn't have the energy for anything anymore. I stopped going out to the movies, to dinner, to go dancing and eventually pulled away from all my friends so that I was alone. That only made things worse because I felt all alone, like no one cared and like I had no where to turn to. I didn't see I had pushed everyone away not then at least.

As my pregnancy progressed so did my depression. To the point that I was literally sleeping all the time. I would set my alarm to get up and wake up my son for school and go back to bed when he got on the bus. Set it again for when he got home a half hour early so I could unlock the door and lay on the couch sleeping. then would wake up when he opened the door and would go back into my room and he would wake me up when he was hungry and I'd drive somewhere real close and buy him some fast food, come home and go back to bed and set my alarm for 8 pm so I could get up and make him take a shower before going to bed.

The scariest part of this time is not the sleeping which was scary in itself. It was like I had lost the will to live. It was the driving that scared me. When I had to drive I would have to go over a very curvy overpass that is very very high in the air. Every time I got on it I would think, "I wonder what it would feel like to drive off the edge?", I didn't want to die, I had everything to live for, I had a new baby on the way that I loved already and a son I loved dearly. The thing was it wasn't my thought. It was the depression talking. Every single day I drove that bridge that thought would pop into my head and it scared me. Still I didn't do anything, I just ignored it and prayed that one day my hands wouldn't get a mind of their own and turn the wheel while I was on that bridge.

After I had my other son I got a little better. I was able to stay awake as long as the baby most of the time. But I didn't always wake up right away when he would start crying for a feeding. Thank god for my older son! He would feed the baby and change his diaper for me till i woke up. Waking up was like trying to get out of quicksand, it kept trying to suck me back in.

By the time he was 6 months old I ran out of all my money and unemployment and got evicted from my apt. We had no where to go. My father managed an apt building so he got us an apt there and turned on the water and lights, but turned them off on us a few days later when I got in a an argument with him and told me we could go to a homeless shelter. He thought I was just being lazy. I ended up staying at an acquaintance house for 4 months till I found an apt and it was ready for me. Was not a good situation there, lot of drug use, neglect and craziness in general. Not the sort of things I was accustomed to subjecting me children to but didn't have any other options.

I was still struggling with my depression even then and sleeping a lot but kept me and my kids in the small room she let us have. Things seemed very dark and hopeless at that time. I was already weeping a lot before this but now I was weeping every time I was alone (I didn't want my older son to see my crying). Everything set me off, commercials, cartoons, tv shows, split milk, the toilet flushing.

Finally my apt was ready and we moved in. It was a worse neighborhood than we were already in but it was a place. By this time my little half brother got out of prison and came to stay with us. Thank god!! I got really bad once we moved back into our own place and my brother was a big help with the kids. and during all this time I was gaining weight like crazy. During my pregnancy I only gained 20 lbs and after I had the baby I only had 10 to lose. Now I had never been fat before, I had never been skinny either, I had been voluptuous, have always had curves where a woman should have them. I got fat quickly after the baby, I gained 65 lbs in less than 9 months which didn't help my depression any. At this time I had some bad things happen to me that I won't get into but they made me glad I was fat and unattractive and I fell into a deep dark depression where I secretly hoped I would not wake up from my sleep because life was just too much for me to deal with.

Finally a friend of mine suggested I go to a psychiatrist and get evaluated because she thought I was suffering from depression. My 1st reaction was to tell her that i was fine just a little tired and was rightfully down after all I had been through. I had lost my apt, my car, my bf had went to jail and I had broke up with him, my father had thrown me on the streets, who wouldn't be a little down?
Well I'm glad I took her advice and made an appointment. Because I was severely depressed and it wasn't going to go away on its own. It had already been 2 yrs and it hadn't gone away just got progressively worse. I finally admitted to myself that something was wrong and it was ok to get help, didn't make me crazy, crazy was acting like nothing was wrong with me.

Apparently I had been like this for a while just not severe enough get any notice and being pregnant threw my body out of whack which brought it to the surface and made it worse. The doctor started me on anti-depressants which take about a month to work. But I started feeling better and more like myself. People call them happy pills but that isn't what they are at all. They don't change who you are or how you act. What they do if balance the chemicals in your brain that are telling your body to be depressed. For instance I'm on seretonin inhibitors because apparently my brain produces too much of it.

I'm still a bitch in rl and when I'm sad I cry, I get mad and laugh when things make me. No longer do I cry for no reason or feel hopeless for no reason or secretly want to just go to sleep and die. When I think back on that time what I remember most is everything I missed and how it was like walking around in a fog. The fog was in my brain and kept me from thinking straight. I went and got help and didn't tell my parents or anyone I knew and I'm glad I did. I never want to go through that again. I spent 2 yrs in a dark pit because I was too proud to admit something was wrong. Medication did not completely take it away, I still have bad days but most days are good and the bad days are no where near as bad as they were before I got help. I can function now and have my life back. It's like if I was diabetic, I would take insulin and no one would say shit but since it has to do with my brain people have to act stupid and not believe. Well fuck what people think, I want to live!

I hope this helps you and I hope you go seek treatment. The scary part of depression is usually people suffering from depression don't kill themselves because they want to, they do it, but its like watching themselves in a movie, like they're not doing it, its an impulse and its done before they can even try to stop themselves. I am so glad that didn't happen to me. I love my family and friends and would not want to leave them like that, thinking what could they have done. That is the real reason I got help, for the ones I loved. Once my head was clear I kept the treatment up for myself. I hope you do too.

By: Anonymous

My life in real is a struggle. I have anxiety and depression. It gets hard to handle at times, and my mom helps me through it. I remember in high school, I had a very hard time going through classes. I get these "crying spells" where I can't eat, I can't focus, all I can really do is sit there and just cry.

Depression didn't start at high school. I had it as long as I can remember. I would fake a smile, and as a child, a smile meant happy. No one would really take a second and ask how I was, and really mean it.

I moved away from my best friend and ended up crying a lot during class. Teachers and fellow students would ask why I was crying, and I had to make something up. Honestly, I didn't know. I really had nothing to cry about. I was a top student, honor roll every quarter, read a lot, very active girl. And I was sitting there just wondering why I was crying.

Things got worse and worse after that. One night I was talking to my sister, one of our "bond" moments when I confided in her. She told me I needed to talk to my dad about it. I sat him down and we talked, then made an appointment to get me checked out.

Turned out, it was depression, at 14 I was put on anti-depressent that messed me up bad. Now I no longer take medication, but I write out my emotions in a journal. I also have an awesome support system there to back me up.
I could lie and said it gets easier, but that's not me. I get frustrated, exhausted all the time. I've lived the black hole part for 4 years now, been in a black hole since I lost my dad. He was my best friend...

Only advice I really have, is take it day by day, second by second. Like Whitney Houston said in her song: "I'm taking it... step by step, bit by bit, stone by stone, brick by brick."

The link to the youtube video is below. This is one of the songs that helps me on a bad day. www.youtube.com/watch?v=fVyO0I_kJuw

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