#FraudLife

I am a wonderful, loving teacher, an excellent daughter, a God fearing Christian, a compassionate friend...and a fraud. 

Yes, a fraud. 

You may be asking yourself, how in the world is Kayleigh a fraud? Is she a liar? Isn't she a teacher, daughter, Christian, and friend?

Well, dear friend, slide over a little closer and allow me to let you in on a little secret. 

I discovered recently that none of those adjectives describe me, and I feel like I have fooled you all. 

When I receive compliments, I cringe. I do not know how to graciously experience and accept kind words directed towards myself. Not that I don't LIKE hearing good things about myself, I just don't know how to digest them. My ears get hot, my cheeks turn a rosier red than normal, I get a small smile on my face and can just about manage to squeak out a tiny "thank you". 

A wonderful, loving teacher... is how I would describe someone who emulated Mother Teresa in the teaching profession. I am not Mother Teresa. Some days I get so frustrated that I want to walk straight out of the door and never come back. Some days I want to throw my hands in the air and say I give up. When little Johnny pokes his neighbor in the eye with his pencil for the third time in a week, I want to quit. When little Billy throws a fit and yells and cries, I want to climb under my desk and yell and cry, too. I make mistakes on a daily basis. My profession is messy, and I try to put on a good front that I have it all together. But guess what? I am far from having it together. There are days I look at my lesson plans and think "what in the world does this even mean?". There are moments where I think about how increasingly pleasant my life would be if I married a rich man and ran away to someplace tropical. I get stressed, and irritated, and discouraged. And then I look into the sweet little faces in my classroom and remember why I'm there. If I were gone, would another teacher bother to take a breath and calmly tell Johnny to put the pencil down or lose it for the tenth time in a day? Would someone else go and hug little Billy and tell him she understands he's upset and that it's going to be ok? I have to remember that I am doing this job for a reason. I have a purpose. It is frustrating. I may never see the positive outcomes of my work, but I have to trust that they'll be there someday. I, however, am not wonderful and loving. I am a hot mess. I'm trying to survive most days. I mess up and I lose my patience and I want to give up. I love my kids. But some days it feels like I am going bonkers. Some days it seems more appealing to give in and give up than to keep up the fight. 

An excellent daughter...is someone who does everything right. Someone who appreciates their parents. Who can forgive the little things, and love unconditionally. None of those things describe how I am. I am ungrateful. I am a terrible daughter. One day about 2 months ago, I had someone tell me "Your parents are so blessed to have a daughter like you." When I heard those words, I wanted to die. I wasn't speaking to my mom, my dad was driving me crazy, and I was walking around like nothing was happening at all. I roll my eyes, I don't say thank you. I don't easily forgive the little OR the big things. I hold on to all the wrong memories, and don't treasure the right ones. I'm quick to point out their flaws as parents before I ever even think to stop and bring up the million things they've done right. I just cry and moan about the ten they've done wrong. I have you all fooled on this one. I am not an excellent daughter, I'm a horrible daughter. 

A God fearing Christian...describes about 90% of the people I have surrounded myself with. These are people who when the Lord calls them, they answer. When He asks them to do something tough for Him, they are obedient. When things go awry, they pray, they trust, they continue on strong. 

I am not one of these people. 

Sometimes I try to make God wait. When He pushes me to do something difficult I drag my feet, I whine, I complain. I tell everyone how hard it is. I don't always trust. I don't always pray. And rarely do I continue on strong. I'm not always confident that He will pull me through...instead I'm scared. I'm afraid to take a leap of faith, even a tiny one. I'm afraid that when I doubt Him, that it will somehow count against me in my life. I fight with Him. I am not always obedient. 

When I think of a model Christian I do not think of me. I think of someone who has immense amounts of compassion for other people. Someone who jumps at the chance to serve the Lord. People who have memorized mass amounts of scripture and can recite the perfect verse when opportunity arises (you people drive me a little crazy sometimes, to be honest...you're all like "well 1 Corinthians... says..." and I'm all like "I can recite Green Eggs and Ham.") They seem to have it together. I, on the other hand, feel like a fish out of water sometimes (most times). Life is messy. My life is messy. I don't understand why things happen or why God allows them to happen. I constantly question why He chooses me to do things. Sometimes I'm too tired to pray, I think "I'll talk to God later". Too often Jesus gets gently nudged to the side. I worry about what people will think about this life I've chosen. I worry, period. I'm afraid to ask questions, because I want people to think I've got it together. I'm afraid to admit weakness in my faith. Especially in this aspect of my life, I just feel like a fraud plain and simple. A faux Christian. I don't feel like I'm doing a good enough 'job'. And I hate it. And I do everything in my power to keep that from 87% of the people I surround myself with. 

A compassionate friend...is not me. I'm a friend. I'm a funny friend. I can be compassionate sometimes. But other times I want to look at my beautiful, wonderful friends and tell them to shut it. I want to tell them to get over it. That things cannot possibly be that bad or difficult. I don't always take the time to put myself in their shoes. I don't always make it a point to actively listen, and ask questions and give advice. I realized that this was the case when I recently had dinner with Lauren...and only looked at my phone one time the entire 2 hours we were together. I actually did listen, and did ask questions, and realized that I had been missing out on a lot of things my friend had tried to tell me in the past. I missed out on truly being immersed in a great story. I missed out on the little details that could have helped me to give better advice on past troubles. I was not present. I was not always understanding. I was not always sympathetic. Sometimes I'm more interested in expressing my issues than listening to someone else's and that's simply not fair. I am a friend, but I'm not often a very good one. 

I think what I need here is help. I want to be all of these things so I don't feel like I need to deceive you all anymore. Some of these things I know what to do, but others I don't. I don't know how to be more faithful. I don't know how to be more present. I don't know how to remain calm and patient and not want to quit. But I want to learn. So tell me, friends, what advice can you give this fraud?

A Symbol of Hope

I am sure I have told this story before on this blog (probably last Christmas), but I think that it's good enough to share again. There is a four letter word that is powerful, and means a lot to me. It's a word that has many meanings to many people. It's a word that carries the dreams and anxieties of many.

That word is hope. 

Hope is something I believed 3 years ago I did not possess. I was hopeless, helpless, and in all seriousness I was constantly on the verge of death. I felt alone, even when surrounded by masses of people. Do you know how bizarre it feels to feel so alone in a crowd? It is the strangest thing, and not a type of feeling I was getting used to. It happened all of the time, but never ceased to make me feel uncomfortable. 

I was going through the motions at that time. It had been about 7 months since I had been raped, but I was hitting a point where the seriousness of the situation finally had begun to hit. It was my senior year of college and I was a fireball of stress. I was having panic attacks on a consistent basis, and I felt like my world was crashing down around me. College is hard enough. Relationships are hard enough. Throw in a sexual assault and stir in some PTSD and what you have just created is a disaster. I didn't know what to do with myself. Two failed suicide attempts later (one may not count to many as an attempt, but it counts to me) and I was a hot mess.

No one needed me. If I was gone no one would miss me. I was convinced I would flunk out of school even though my supervisor was doing everything in her power to pull me through. My roommates were starting to slink back into the shadows of their own lives. Friends I once had, had chosen his side and decided that I was not worthy of their friendship. I was alone, I was sad, and I was afraid. I constantly feared for my life but was often met with the words of those who were trying to encourage, but only made it worse. 

"You have nothing to be afraid of...", they said.

"It's been 6 months.", they retorted. 

"You're safe. You're going to be ok."

As far as I was concerned, as long as he was free I was not safe. As long as he walked this earth I would never be safe. Even to this day I am fearful. I am not in a constant state of fear, but there are still those moments where I want to lock myself in my home and never leave. If I lock myself in, he'll never get to me. 

I was not going home for Christmas this year as I had to work the holiday in order to pay some of my bills. I felt so alone it hurt. 

One night I decided to just drive around town and maybe look at some Christmas lights. I drove to Cookout and ordered an Eggnog milkshake (delicious!). I started driving in no particular direction and soaked in the different neighborhood Christmas displays. Some 30 minutes later I drove, by chance, through the Sunset Hills neighborhood and that's when something changed in me. 

I saw the most beautiful Christmas lights I have ever seen in my life. 

If you have never driven through that neighborhood let me explain this to you. They wrap twinkle lights around chicken wire to form balls. They then string them throughout the trees. These lights hang down and encase the neighborhood in beautiful, twinkling, colorful lights. 

Those lights were literally my light in the midst of darkness. I was filled with so much joy as my car crept through the quiet street. They opened something within my heart and filled me with so much peace. I deserved to live. I was needed. I just simply had to be reminded of the beauty of the world. I watched couples slowly making their way down the sidewalk soaking in this sight as much as they could. It was incredible. 

Every night until January, I drove down those streets with an eggnog milkshake in hand. I would blast Christmas music (mostly Glee...I was obsessed at the time) and I would smile. 

Those lights were my symbol of hope.

Tonight I took a trip down memory lane. I grabbed an eggnog milkshake from Cookout (keeping the tradition alive) and drove through Sunset Hills admiring my small, but mighty, symbols of hope. 

I now place my hope in a power higher than some strings of Christmas lights. Those lights didn't completely fix me, but they helped me to hang on a little longer. I know now that coming across this neighborhood and these lights was no accident. I didn't believe in God at the time, but looking back I know His hand was in that moment. I truly believe He orchestrated my trip so that I could have more time to make a difference and leave my mark on this world. 

Tonight I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for the people who have walked in and out of my life. I am thankful for my 13 little blessings. I am grateful for the people who have, and continue to mentor me. I am, however, especially thankful for eggnog milkshakes, balls of sparkling Christmas lights, and hope. 

Thankful 2k14

Just a quick post to kick off Thanksgiving. I've found myself being really thankful lately, not just this week and wanted to express it! So without further ado...

1. I am thankful for a job where I can love and teach kids. A job that helps me grow and challenges me to become a better teacher, and keep my eyes fixed on Jesus. 

2. I am thankful for supportive coworkers who encourage me and make me laugh on a daily basis. I would not be able to survive without that. 

3. I am thankful for the opportunity to volunteer these past 10 months with some precious kids every Wednesday. I love seeing the joy on their faces when they walk through the door. It has been an amazing experience, being able to teach these kids about Jesus and being a fun place of escape for an hour every week. I am so sad I'll have to stop in January until summer, and know that I'll be ecstatic when I come back. 

4. I am thankful for Lauren and Amy. They're the best friends I could have ever asked for. They call me out on my crap and laugh at most of my jokes (even when they're not funny...). I can count on them to give advice when I need it, and I'm thankful for the times where we can all just kind of sit in comfortable silence. 

5. I am thankful for the mentors I've had throughout the year. Mentors for both my professional life and my spiritual life. These people have taught me the importance of hard work, dedication, passion, and faith. With their help I've been able to trudge through so much. I can see how much I've changed in just a short amount of time, and that is something I will always be grateful for. 

6. I am thankful for my dishwasher. This may sound trivial, but Y'ALL. DON'T. EVEN. KNOW. 

DON'T. EVEN. KNOW. 

I'm also thankful for all of you, who still read my ramblings and don't think I'm crazy. 

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Dear Survivor

Earlier this week I saw an article posted on Facebook about a young man who was arrested for raping a 20 year old girl from a different university than the one he attended. Let me go ahead and tell you that some of the comments being made truly upset me. Little things like, "we call a lot of things rape these days. When a guy and a girl participate in heavy foreplay and the girl changes her mind right before they actually have sex and they have sex anyway, that's suddenly rape." Uhm, last time I checked that IS rape. Seriously? I don't care what you were doing...as soon as you say 'no' or 'stop' or if you're too intoxicated to be giving consent, I expect the other party involved to be considerate and respectful and STOP. Aside from all of that I couldn't help but think about that poor girl whose life was suddenly turned upside down. She's the same age I was, went through the same trauma I did, and will undoubtedly deal with some of the same problems afterward that I did. I thought about what I would say to her and what I would tell her about fighting through it and decided to write an open letter. I don't know that that particular girl would ever see it, but if ONE survivor sees it and it helps ONE person, then it could be worth it.

Dear Survivor,
That's what you should think of yourself as now; a survivor.  You aren't a victim, but there are going to be days, weeks, months, and years where you'll feel like it's going to be so much easier to just act like one. You have gone through what is, in my opinion, the worst trauma you could have gone through. It's confusing and a lot of times it won't make sense. You'll wonder why you're so upset when you could be dead. Eventually you're going to realize that you have every right to feel every emotion that floods you. 

There are going to be days where you will want to die. Pulling yourself out of bed is going to be a struggle, you'll think that things would just be easier if you could just stop breathing. You'll dream about taking pills or running a razor through your skin. And then there will be times where everything will stop feeling so overwhelming and you'll question why you ever felt like your life wasn't worth living.

Physical touch might scare you for a while. A sudden brush against your shoulder, a hug, a pat on the back...all of these things have the potential to send you spiraling. And that's ok. Eventually you will work through it. 

You didn't deserve this. None of us did. I speak from experience. We should have had normal lives, we shouldn't be afraid of people, we shouldn't have to struggle through simple every day tasks. Unfortunately that's the hand we've been dealt and here's how we're going to handle it. 

Fight. Promise me you will fight. Don't hurt yourself, don't kill yourself, don't be ok with being stuck in bed all day. Fight back. Don't let him take the joy of living your life fully away from you. Find a good therapist and stick with them until they feel you're ready to exit. If necessary, find a psychiatrist and tell them about any symptoms you're experiencing. Many of us suffer from PTSD, and something I learned that I hadn't known is that PTSD is treatable and cureable according to my own doctor. Speak to people. You don't have to do what I do and blog. You don't have to tell everyone you meet, but I highly suggest telling one person that you trust with everything you have. Having someone to confide in is so helpful especially during the darkest days. Having a support and someone to look out for you is important. 

I know it sucks. It will always suck. It is the worst and I wish you didn't have to join the club. Unfortunately you, like the rest of us, didn't have a choice. Know that I believe you can make it. I believe you can fight hard and that you won't let it define you. Block out the opinions in this world that aren't acting as an encouragement to you. Surround yourself with people who will build you up and make you feel alive. 

Most importantly know that though I may not know any of you survivors who are reading this, that I care about you and encourage you from afar. Know that I pray for each of you every day. And know that you can survive. 

Love,
Someone who has had to go through the same hell you have

Emotions

Emotions are the actual worst.

My emotions tend to really screw things up for me. I feel too much, too intensely, and too often. When I "feel" I feel deeply. Almost too deeply. Every emotion hits me at once and I can't seem to manipulate my reactions to it. People have told me that don't understand why I react to certain situations in certain ways. You guys don't understand. When things happen, I have the most overwhelming feelings washing over me and it's almost as if I have no control over them. Like today, for instance, I had a student tell me he loved me (after he threw a fit). I had been working so hard to get him to a place where he would be respectful and self disciplined. Literally all he said was "I'm sorry. I love you so much." I was so excited that we'd had a teeny weeny breakthrough that I literally broke down into tears. Most people may feel a small burst of pride...not me. The floodgates were opened and I was a mess and no one seemed able to understand it.

When I mess up, I know I've messed up. I beat myself to a pulp over it, I overanalyze everything I said and did. When I'm angry at someone I get so upset that I cry. Not because they've pissed me off that much, but because I suddenly fear that any bit of friendship that was there will magically disappear. When I'm sad I sink into a state of comatose. I am paralyzed by my grief, even if only over the smallest thing. I will find myself in moments of sorrow so intense that I literally cannot move. People move around me in a blur and I can't make out the words they're saying.

It truly pains me to be like this. Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy the overpowering emotions I have that mute any good quality I possess.  It's not a drama queen thing, it's an extremely sensitive human thing.

One of the biggest things I've been struggling with as of late is being told by several people that I have no reason to feel the way I do. I've been getting upset lately, and for the first time in a long time I've actually found my voice and approached those issues head on. I don't think that people are used to me addressing them full force when I get upset. Typically I convince myself that I was fully at fault and that there is nothing that needs to be addressed. However I have come to realize that that is a self destructive mindset and does nothing to help me process my emotions. It also eventually catches up with me and causes me to feel a lot of resentment towards the person I feel has wronged me. I blame this completely on the fact that I don't allow myself to process what I'm feeling. I don't deal with it right away and let it eat me alive until one day I finally explode. And when I do explode it's usually met with a "what's her problem?"  That's because the most trivial circumstances are usually what tips the scale.

I am vowing to start dealing with problems as the arise. Even if it seems simple to you and foolish, please don't downplay what I feel. I have been hurt and taken advantage of so many times in the past that a lot of simple and foolish things bring long repressed feelings to the surface and make it nearly unbearable to function until I can confront them.

If you are a true friend, please just be there for me. Please just help me work through it. Don't tell me I'm crazy or have a bad temper or have no reason to be upset. Obviously if I'm upset it's for a reason...but maybe it's just not for whatever caused the reaction. I know I have a bad temper, and I'm working on it. I feel like feeling anger isn't a problem, but letting it control us and determine our actions is.

Be a friend. Help me process. Let me hug you. Most importantly, pray for me. This emotion stuff is causing me to go through a lot of other things within a lot of friendships and I feel like it's all hit me at once. It's overwhelming and difficult to deal with in a lump like this. I'm trying to be a better person for these people, at the same time acknowledging my feelings, and also trying to make people happy at the same time. Navigating this period of my life is really hard and the struggle is real. Feeling so much is almost too much to bear.

Emotions are a funny thing. Without them we would be nothing, but sometimes they can be too much.

Circle Round There Is No End...That's How Long I Want to Be Your Friend

Before I even get into the meat of this blog I just have to tell the best story ever. So back in my UNCG days I was friends with this girl Cassy. Cassy hated me at first...like really hated me. I guess I can see now why she did. We worked together and I was in a leadership position and had to enforce a lot of stuff. I also think that at age 19 I wasn't quite ready to handle all of that responsibility and didn't do the greatest job leading. I was like a bubbly, annoying dictator. Anyway one night we had to sit our team down for a pow wow when one of the girls just verbally let me have it. Everyone stared in shock and I fought back tears as we continued our meeting. At the end of this meeting Cassy came up and gave me a hug and we quickly became good friends. Such good friends that she was the first person I called when I was raped, the person who came right to my apartment and drove me to the hospital. Unfortunately, as time went on I was terrible at keeping up with people. As of last Sunday I had not seen her in 3 years or talked to her in at least 2. Suddenly at church I look to the other side of the room and see her. My jaw dropped and I quickly texted her to inform her she had been spotted. I went and said hey after the service but didn't really speak with her much. I was so excited that I had seen her that I decided to reach out to her that night to see if we could get together and catch up. So we had dinner Friday and it was so great it's like our friendship was renewed! And we're both still a couple of weirdos. We were talking about my church and I am about to quote her on the best thing she said all night. She said, "I mean I like it, I just kind of get uncomfortable when everybody sings because I don't know the words....also I don't like karaoke." I laughed so hard I cried and people stared. I couldn't help it! I'd never heard anyone refer to worship as karaoke! #dead
Anyway I promised her she'd make it into my newest blog, and I am just so happy we're friends agaaaaain!!!!

That was a good segway into my post because I'm going to talk about relationships. Friends, family, significant others...I'm sure they could all fit under what I'm about to say.

Relationships are hard.

Yup. I said it. They are difficult. Keeping up a friendship is HARD. Keeping up with family is HARD. And I'm sure keeping up with a boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife is HARD but I have no experience with that so I won't discuss it. Instead I want to focus on friendships. Because they're difficult. And people don't seem to like to admit that.

I love my friends. I love having friends. I love becoming friends with new people. But I am a selfish friend. I like being assured that my friends are truly my friends and care about me. I like knowing that I can call someone about my problems, or about the weird encounter at the Verizon store, or about how I just know so and so is out to get me, or about the weird thing on my face that's like a weird cross between a bug bite and a zit....you get the point. I like hanging out with my friends and trying to talk to ALL of them on a daily basis. But I get sick of being the one always reaching out. And that is where I have run into some trouble.

I expect everyone to be like me. I expect everyone to show love the same way I do. If I hug you and you don't hug me back with the same amount of enthusiasm, I feel hurt. If I text you and you never respond, I feel forgotten. If I come to you with what I think is a problem and you brush it off or don't react the way I want you to, I feel like you're judging me. Not everyone is like me. Trust me I am by no means perfect....I have extremely rough edges. But unfortunately for me I didn't realize that until recently. What did I realize?

I am not a very good friend.

I talk, but I don't listen. I care, but not enough. I love, but not in all the right ways. I try to make plans, but it's because I feel lonely and need company, not because I know you had a rough day and could use some coffee.

I am selfish. I get hurt too easily. I don't express my feelings well verbally. 

That last one is a huge problem for me. I can tell you how I feel very well when writing my thoughts out. But if you expect me to tell you in person, forget it. I avoid eye contact and get extremely uncomfortable. I get embarrassed that I felt any way at all. You know what I realized? It's because I know that I could have done better, and I'm afraid of losing people.

I've realized the true value of friendships the past few weeks, right when I feared that I was about to lose 2 very important ones to me. I've learned it's not always about me, 24/7. Sometimes people we care about have things going on too, and they deserve to be heard. I've learned that sometimes I guess I can tend to love too hard. Sometimes I expect too much from people. Sometimes I don't explain how I feel very well, and important things get lost in the confusion.

I have made some resolutions for my friendships since about a week ago. I am now trying harder to show an interest in my friends' lives. It's not that I wasn't interested before...I would just get sidetracked by the things that were happening in my own life. I am going to force myself to be verbal. I am going to try really hard to actually speak to people about everything I need/want to talk to them about. When I have questions I will ask them...in person not always via text and email. And I won't be embarrassed by it. And I won't allow anyone or anything to make me feel stupid for asking them. (Ok maybe I will be a little bit, but I'm going to try to at least mask it.) I will tell people if I'm feeling hurt and own my feelings. Because if I can't do that, what's the point of bringing them up in the first place? I will be a better listener. I will try to stop taking things so personally.  I'm going to try really hard to stop being so selfish.

Friendships are important. At this point they are vital to my survival on earth...that's a fact I have to accept. I am a very relational person. I need people. Other people bring me joy and energy and that's something I love. I just have to be better at being there for other people.

What kind of friend will you be this week?

Real Talk: Depression

My original thought was that I'd write a happy post this week about how wonderfully my new job is going, but this is much more important. As most of you have already read, Robin Williams was found dead this afternoon from an apparent suicide. Now I am not normally one to get overly upset about celebrity deaths, but this one truly cut me to the core. Mrs. Doubtfire, Jumanji, Aladdin, Flubber, Hook....these were all childhood staples. That man has had me laughing and dreaming since I was a little bitty thing, and after hearing this news I felt like I really needed to readdress depression on this blog. Depression is an illness that will never disappear from this earth, and we need to become more aware of it. 

Unless you're brand new to this blog, you know that I have struggled with severe depression for the last 3 years, which was one of the after effects of the rape I was a victim of in college. Some of you also may or may not know that I struggled with mild depression during my freshman year of college. I remember so many times that I have confided in people where they expressed disbelief because "you're so happy all of the time!" and "you have nothing to be depressed about." It is so important to understand that we do not choose depression. Depression finds us and envelopes it with it's dark, icy embrace. 

Depression is a chemical imbalance. It can also be caused by stressful events, medication, faulty mood regulation, and genetics. Depression is not as simple as sadness. We cannot take one emotion and slap it onto the word depression, thinking that it explains everything. The dictionary definition of depression in the psychiatric sense:

 a condition of general emotional dejection and withdrawal; sadness greater and more prolonged than thatwarranted by any objective reason. (dictionary.com)

You aren't just sad. You have no sense of purpose, no sense of self worth. You go through long stretches of time where it's easier to remain hidden in your home, than face the world. Just because someone seems to be outwardly happy, doesn't mean they aren't battling internal demons. 

I always pictured my depression as a black speck. Most of the time that speck stays hidden way in the back of my noggin. I rarely think about it. But then, something will trigger that speck and it starts to expand. Imagine like an oil spill in the sea....it starts to seep into every crevice of my brain. It takes over and negates every positive thought, every urge to succeed. It whispers to me that I would be better off alone. That no one cares. That I am worth nothing. That I am a burden. That I am useless. Unwanted. And my brain doesn't have the proper equipment to fight it off. 

My brain also cannot produce effective ways to cry out for help, because it feels like it (I) doesn't deserve help. Inside I know I desperately want someone to reach out, offer a word of encouragement, help me fix my brain. I just don't know how. And I truly believe that that is the point where many people give up and decide they cannot take it anymore. Life is too hard, it isn't worth the fight, and even if it was worth it they wouldn't know how to fight anyway. Oh, how many times I've felt this! My story, however, is different. I am blessed beyond measure. I have been surrounded by people who are extremely intuitive, who know me and care about me more than I could ever fathom. They've seen the red flags, and instead of letting it go, they jumped onto the problem and did what they could to help. Medications and therapy are what have always gotten me through. 

I am not saying there is always a way to "fix" it. Sometimes medicine doesn't work. Sometimes therapy makes it worse by bringing a lot of muck to the surface. I do think, though, that if we all made ourselves more aware of the warning signs we could make a difference. I think if we approached the topic of depression and mental illness in general, in a more meaningful way, that we could bring about a lot of change.

People who commit suicide are not selfish. Often they belief in their heart of hearts that they are doing what is best for their loved ones, that they are relieving a burden. Yes, death often hurts those around us more than anything we could do in our lives, but when you are struggling with severe depression you don't have the resources to realize that. I remember hearing of a suicide back in December and was ashamed to know the people who claimed this individual was heartless and selfish and that they were disgusted. They weren't selfish and heartless. They were sick. A disease of the brain should not be treated any differently than a disease of the heart.

Stop treating mental illness like it isn't valid. Keep an eye out for the warning signs. The happiest people have often times suffered the most. 

Love eachother. Understand eachother. 

Most importantly, let us not allow our misconceptions to prevent us from enhancing and possibly saving a life. 

Tragedy can so many times be prevented. 

Step up.