I am not ashamed

           I am not ashamed. I have to keep telling myself this over and over when the negative thoughts and the embarrassment come seeping through. I have to tell myself this over and over again every day. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of. If someone were diabetic, they would not be ashamed to take insulin and to seek professional help. I should not be ashamed to do the same for my mental health.
           Some people may have noticed that I haven't been as active on facebook or that I have been missing playgroups and other activities. Where have I been? In the hospital. In the behavioral health ward.
          I have had suicidal thoughts for as long as I can remember. I have cut since I was 7. The suicidal thoughts were always in the back of my mind, but they started becoming stronger and stronger. The thoughts became constant and vivid. I couldn't even look at a calming picture of a waterfall without imagining myself drowning in the water or jumping off the cliff to an imminent death. On the night of September 10th I no longer felt safe being alone. Thomas had hid everything he could think of so that I was unable to hurt myself, but I was searching all over the house for something, anything that would work. September 11th, Thomas took me in to the hospital where I stayed until September 28th.
          It was a very long stay and it was so hard to not be there for my kids and Thomas. I felt guilty every day that I wasn't fulfilling my duties of taking care of my family and supporting Thomas in his medical school endeavors as well as his calling in the Bishopric. I felt like I was failing and that I was indeed a failure. It was difficult to be away from my family, but it was necessary. I was able to find new coping skills, stay in a safe environment, and make friends from all walks of life. My medication was adjusted and some new ones were added. I was feeling a little bit better when I was released.
         I wasn't able to go to the psychiatrist for a couple of weeks because they were booked. When I did go, they completely stopped one med and adjusted a lot of the other ones. Two days later, I tried to kill myself. Thomas walked in and was able to stop me. I had dissociated and didn't know what I was doing. Most of the time I am grateful for this, but honestly there are still moments in the day when I wish I would have been able to complete the task. This was October 19th. I was taken to the hospital that day and was transported to a hospital in Scottsdale due to lack of beds at the hospital I was previously at. My stay was a little shorter here, but not much. I stayed until October 31st. I was so grateful I got out so I could go trick or treating with the kids. They were adorable.
       Anyways... back on topic. This stay was hard. Thomas decided to take a 4 week leave of absence from school so that he could stay home with the kids. It broke my heart. I felt so so guilty for not being able to support him the way that I wanted. I was very grateful though. This new hospital was a lot nicer, but I didn't learn much coping skills wise. However, I got my medication adjusted the way it needed to be. I added on some medications and increased dosages. I am now on 8 medications. But you know what, those 8 medications have made the biggest difference. No, I am not perfectly happy and I'm not ready to conquer the world yet. I am not completely healed and I'm not sure I will be in this life. However, the suicidal thoughts are not constant anymore and they are not as intense. I feel lighter, my head is more clear, and I feel the spirit stronger than I have in years. I can function in my daily life.
        I met so many different people. I met a woman who had experienced deep loss when her son had killed himself, I met another woman who was struggling because of financial difficulties, I  met many people who were bipolar and manic and had given away every single possession, I met many homeless people who were just trying their best to get through the day, I met a man who was so giving and super rich but he was severely depressed, I met someone else who had 2 doctorate degrees but no longer felt like life was worth living, I met many who were addicted to drugs and alcohol, and some who had medical problems and because of those medical conditions, they had to take opiates and consequently became addicted. I learned a lot about judging people. As you can see, there were all different people in the hospital, but we were all so similar and got along so well. We all had depression in some form, but had chosen different unhealthy coping skills- some chose drugs and alcohol, some chose opiates, and some chose self harm. We were all hurting and trying to get on a path to healing.
        I learned a lot about myself, about the pain of others, and about new coping skills. I learned that I HAVE to be brutally honest about how I am feeling and be willing to reach out when I need help. Please PLEASE reach out if you are struggling. Stop suffering in silence like I did for so many years. Tell a friend, tell a church leader, call the crisis line, talk to me. Please just reach out. There is no reason to be embarrassed. Build a support system, you have more friends than you think you do (as I learned when so many came to our aid watching kids and visiting me in the hospital), there are more around you than you realize that have struggled with the same thing you are going through or something similar. I learned that mental illness affects all walks of life and is nothing to be ashamed of. I learned that we cannot judge others because we are more alike them than we are different. We are all children of God just trying to do our best.
         I am still on my path to healing. I am doing the best I can. One of the big things taught in the hospital is that to heal we need to accept our mental illness and not be ashamed of it. I suffer with depression, anxiety, and PTSD and I am not ashamed.