It’s hard to ask for help when we are struggling, especially when suffering with mental illness. The stigma of mental illness surrounds us, it’s on the news, it’s in television shows, it’s in the newspaper, and it’s spoken about by misinformed people. Because of this stigma, many who struggle feel alone and scared. Others are afraid to ask for help because they fear they will hurt their family or they don’t understand what is happening to them. The sad thing is many go without help because of these reasons and spend their lives thinking there is no hope when there is.

When I was struggling with mental illness, I didn’t know what was happening to me. In school I felt this overwhelming sadness, I struggled to sleep, I felt hopeless, my thoughts raced, and I daydreamed of my death. I even burst out in angry rages at home. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t know what. I couldn’t explain to my parents what was happening inside me, so I never told them. I thought I could handle it on my own. When my uncle was killed in a car accident, I fell deeper down that dark hole of sadness. I thought I was having a nervous breakdown.

My sadness got worse when my cousin was killed during my senior year of high school. I fell all the way to the bottom of that hole. When I started college I stopped sleeping, I became suicidal, I started cutting, I couldn’t keep food down, and the sadness was so strong I felt like it was suffocating me. I lived with my grandparents, and I hid from them my agony. I wrote my suicide note and planed my death. I never told them or my parents how badly I was struggling. It wasn’t until my mom noticed my wounds that I broke down in her arms and I confided in her. That’s when she searched for help for me and moved me back home so she and my dad could take care of me.

As I wrote my book, Escape to the Garage: Family Love Overcomes Bullying, I was able to trace the start of my mental illness back to grade school. I ask myself, “What if I had asked for help back then? Could I have saved myself from so many years of suffering?” I believe if I had asked my parents for help, they would have done anything they could for me. When I did ask for help in college, my mom went as far as going to a hospital in a nearby town to find information on how to get me treatment.

I learned that no one can handle mental illness on their own. We need help to face such an awful illness, and there is help. There are organizations like One Life project Inspire Kindness | One Life Project (projectonelife.org) and NAMI https://www.nami.org/Home. Many states have programs that help you get treatment for low cost or no cost, there are suicide and crisis hot lines (call 988 for crisis or suicide, and so on. There are also more sites to turn to for help under resources on this site https://wordpress.com/view/aimeeeddygross.wordpress.com. Turn to your family, and if they are not understanding, talk to a close friend. Don’t suffer alone. 

I suffered alone for many years before I asked for help. By not telling anyone what was going on inside me, my illness only got worse. I could have found recovery sooner if only I told someone I was struggling and got therapy at a young age. I could have succeeded in my suicidal attempts. In college I took a bottle of pills. I was groggy and dizzy and yet some how I drove to my college in a snowstorm. I wasn’t even sure how I got there, let alone safely. The only answer I have is God got me there.

If you are thinking about taking your life and you feel like the only way out of your agony is to commit suicide, tell someone or call a hotline. If need to, have someone take you, or drive yourself to the nearest hospital. You may not see it, but your life is important, and you are important. Your death will hurt others and you have a future ahead of you. With help, recovery is possible. Never be afraid to ask for help.

Even though it took me a long time to ask for help, I did ask and now I am in recovery. I’m surrounded by caring and supportive people to help me with the rough days. I am a strong person enjoying life in the light of recovery.

Next week I will not post a blog post because I will be at Saint Davids Christian Writers’ Conference. I write on Saturday nights and Saturday this week is the last day of the conference. I return home on that Sunday.