My Story Isn't Over Yet

I can't remember when it all really started. Somewhere along the way I just lost myself, and I've never really been able to find that person again. Bits and pieces of her show through some days but, it's like an out of body experience. I'm watching this girl from above and I can feel all her pain and I just want to reach out and shake her awake. I don't know how things got so bad. One day I'm this happy little kid playing sports and loving being alive and then next I'm waking up from a coma.

I did crazy things, stupid things to make myself feel better. Or shall I say feel nothing at all. I guess looking back I always knew something was wrong inside of me. I don't want to place blame on others, because they didn't know. I didn't even know, I'm not so sure I even understand it now, but I was just so sensitive to everything and everyone around me. I let everyone get to me and I beat myself up about every little thing.

Then the voices started. I was alone but I could hear people talking, sometimes I couldn't make out what they were saying, other times I talked back. Round about 2011 I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, bipolar, anxiety, and depression. This was about two years after I graduated high school.

After graduating, that was when things got really bad. I moved out started taking a few classes at a Jr college and I don't think I ever attended one single class. I thought I was in love, I thought I was going to marry this man. He introduced me to the ultimate numbing agent. Yup, you guessed it. That amazing life ruining substance that has now taken over the world it seems. Heroin.

At first it was just fun and games. A new way to escape and forget all my pain, silence the voices. Things of course went down hill. Fast. Before I knew it I was just a zombie. I was nothing.

Crazy things happened and nothing fazed me. I lost grips with reality and I lost me. I've never been the same. I was clean for awhile. Started selfharming again. Moved 300 miles away. Started a new life but things weren't going well. My demons grew larger. I returned home and everything I left behind found me again and this time things got so much worse than I ever thought they could.

It was everywhere and everyone was doing it. Friends I've known my whole life began to die left and right. Some right in front of my eyes. Why couldn't I see it? Why couldn't I wake up?

I began to find myself in the hospital, often. The worst, I woke up from being a coma for ten days. Still have no memory of how I got there, where I was before, who I was with. I can't even remember days after I was released. And did this stop me? It didn't even faze me. Anything to escape the pain my mind put me through.

There is no running from what's in your own head. All day long I spent running from myself, hiding from everything. But, every night there I was. Alone. Just snuggled up with my demons. I'd like to tell you this story has a happy ending, but I don't know yet.

Today, I am about two years sober. That happy little girl comes out on occasion. But, now she's a stranger. A ghost. A lost soul still tortured by her own mind. I have tried many ways to cope and I still have know idea what to do next. I take it day by day sometimes minute by minute.

I am stronger now. I don't know how to fix any of this but, I sure found a lot of things that do not work. I am five months clean from self harm. My life is a mess and I have know clue what my next move is. But, I think if I just make it through the night, every tomorrow is a new beginning to continue my journey to find peace within myself.