I Am Strong Because I Have Known Weakness

I am 5 years old, my sister helps me up onto the counter top so we can find something to eat, Dad is at work - trying to provide. Mum is where she always is, on the sofa.

I am 10 years old, my Dad picks me up from school, quite unusual. He drives to my grandmother's. As I stand in the door way of my grandmother's house, I see that everyone is hysterical. I don't quite know why, I just know that I should feel sad. All I know is, we can't go home ever again.

I am 12 years old, I curl up into my grandmother's arms - 'why doesn't she love me?' I sob. She pats my back three times, 'I'm so sorry darling' she replies.

I am 14 years old, my grandmother has just brought my mum home from somewhere, she's been gone a few weeks. I'm not sure where. She puts a shopping bag on the counter top and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. The trip away hasn't made a change.

I am 15 years old - 'you need to come with me Jess, it's your grandma, she isn't well' said the pastoral worker. Dad takes me to the hospital to see her, I spend every single day with her, how did I not notice before?

I am 16 years old, I stand on the scale for the first time. I am nearly 19 stone, so it begins.

I am 17 years old, it's just before 7pm, I walk into the bedroom to check on my grandma, I see her take a sharp intake of breath. And then my best friend, she's gone forever.

I am 19 years old, I've been accepted into university! I celebrated alone that evening, as I will do for most of the other achievements that I am lucky to experience in the next few years to come.

I am 20 years old, I get the phone call, my nephew has been taken away. My heart sinks, I might never see him again. I hope he comes to find me one day.

I am 22 years old, I am writing this passage. I think of every blow I have received since I was a child, each like a fresh wound to my heart. It hurts. I have my moment of weakness and cry for the loss of my best friend, the woman who raised me. I cry for my lost youth. I cry for the pain I've endured inside, like I've felt my heart tear into a thousand pieces. Then I sit on the edge of my bed and look at the sky, I am grateful I can still see the beauty in life. I am tired, but I will never stop.

I am Jessica, I am a strong and powerful woman who has experienced mental illness. It's time to speak up. We feel alone, but we are not alone.

Life can often deal an unlawful card to those who do not quite deserve it. But every time we fall down we must stand back up tall and strong. Every wound is a lesson, every experience is an opportunity to grow. I am strong because I have known what weakness is, don't be fooled by hardships they are a blessing, they help you become fiercer, wiser and oddly enough they help you truly appreciate love. Not just love between two people, love for everything around you. All that you are blessed with in life is so beautiful.