"Forget yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow."

Today is National Suicide Prevention Day.

Not long ago, this day didn't exist.

There was no nationwide effort geared toward preventing suicide. We didn't talk about mental health and if you had a mental illness, you kept to yourself. Many, many, many still do. I've decided to share my story because I am alive and I have the ability to do so. I'm lucky, some haven't been, and I hope if you're reading this and you're struggling, you will be lucky too.

I teach 5th grade. To be completely honest with you, it's HARD. These kids are 10 and 11. Their bodies are changing and their minds are changing. They aren't little kids anymore, but they aren't really big kids either. They're going through a phase during which normalcy doesn't really exist. Some days, they are completely disrespectful. And I desperately want to yell at them while pulling my hair out. I breathe and I come back to myself and I remember: they're humans. They're kids. I'm not perfect, how can I expect them to be perfect? Then, I remember when I was in 5th grade.

When I was in 5th grade, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 10 and I really didn't understand the severity of the situation, but the realization that I could lose her was somewhere in the back of my head. One day, I lost it. I don't know where it came from or how it happened, but I remember being at recess and then I remember sobbing on the floor in the hallway at the top of the staircase. I couldn't breathe. I didn't even care that my classmates could see me. Some of them probably remember that day more clearly than I do, but now, I remember it as the day I started my battle.

After that day, I began to close myself off. I didn't feel like hanging out with my friends and I didn't like school anymore. I spent a lot of time on the internet. Soon, it was summer and I started to sleep all the time. I stayed up really late and slept until the afternoon. I would wake up and have panic attacks. I would call my mom and tell her I didn't know what to do; that I felt helpless. Here's the really terrible thing that I still don't understand: I started to imagine what it would be like to die. How could an 11 year old feel these things? How could a kid feel so desperate when nothing really happened? My mom continued to get better and I continued to get worse. I started going to therapy and I started taking medication, but I was miserable. I started 6th grade and I hated every second of it.  I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression. Eventually, my parents decided to admit me to a mental health center inside of a hospital because they were terrified of what might happen. I was too. Truthfully, I don't remember much about my experience there. I don't remember any of the people or any of my treatment. Vividly, I remember what my room looked like. It was completely white; nothing on the walls except white. After some time passed, I went home before returning to the same place for the same reason. I was so miserably depressed and scared of myself that I wanted to go back to the white room instead of staying in the place I called home. I felt guilty. I felt wrong. My heart felt heavy. I didn't like who I was or what I was doing to my family. I didn't see any of the light around me... only darkness.

"Forget yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow."

A nurse, the only person I remember from the hospital, repeated these words to me. When I returned home from my final inpatient treatment, I posted them on the wall above the window in my bedroom. Every morning when I woke up, I read these words to myself. I continued to go to therapy, I continued taking medication, and I started spending time with my friends again. One day, I stopped going to therapy. Soon after, I decided to try a day without my medication.

Ten years have passed since I began my recovery. 

On the most hopeless days, I never could have imagined that I would be here. I realize now that big changes were happening in my life and in the process of finding myself, I lost myself completely. I hope and pray that I never have to go through it again, but I know it's possible. There were times when I was afraid I would fall again.  When my mom died, I was terrified. My freshman year of college, I was terrified. It took me a long time to learn that bad days, bad weeks, and even bad years don't have to pull me back to that place. I still struggle with anxiety, but I reach out to the people who love and support me and I push through. I know now that I have the tools to survive. I always keep in mind that I'm never alone... even when I'm by myself. It's taken me a long time to write about my experience because I was afraid of what people would think or assume about me, but I've realized none of that really matters.

If you are struggling, remember that you're never alone. Remember that tomorrow will come and the future is brighter. If you're scared, think about the days on the other side of the pain. Even if it seems unrealistic, you will wake up 10 years from now and these days will be only distant memory. If you are feeling hopeless, worthless, guilty, scared... reach out. Grab a hand. Grab MY hand! I will help you and I will listen. You're NEVER, ever, EVER alone. You're loved and your future is so bright. Bright beyond your wildest dreams.

"Forget yesterday, live for today, and hope for tomorrow."

Before You Know It

Life happens so quickly that sometimes the biggest events in your life pass you by without the recognition they deserve. Since I'll be teaching 5th grade writing, I decided I needed to make sure I still knew how to write.

So much has happened since the last time I wrote a post. I graduated with honors and received my Bachelor's degree in Elementary Education. I was accepted into an accelerated Master's program. I got the job of my dreams at an incredible school working with incredible people. I get to marry the sweetest, most amazing man in just over a year. It all happened so fast that I haven't really taken the time to reflect on what it all means for my life and my future.

As I sat down and began to reflect on the last few months, I lost it. Seriously. I've been so preoccupied with setting up my classroom, planning for the first week of school, finding a venue, and finishing homework assignments that I forgot to be grateful. I forgot to thank the people in my life who helped me get here and I forgot to thank God for the blessings he has provided me this year.

First: My family. What would I do without you all? When I didn't have the most important person in my life, you all stepped in to fill in the gaps. You pushed me and you encouraged me and most of all, you loved me through the hardest times in my life. Because of you, I've never felt alone and I always strived to succeed. My grandparents (on both sides) taught me the importance of kindness and love and were examples of what those concepts looked like. My sister has taught me so much, even when I didn't want to hear it. The new family I have gained through my fiancé was meant to be my family. And my dad... he is a very special guy. When I was diagnosed with MS and didn't understand any of it, I needed him to be level-headed and strong for me and that's exactly what he did. I really can't put it into words how much I appreciate him, so I'll leave it at this: I couldn't have asked for a better dad and God knew what He was doing when He made me his daughter.

My friends: I have so many people to be thankful for that it would take me a year to list them all. These people have alleviated stress, comforted me in times of sadness, talked me through fears, and listened when I needed to vent. They take my mind off the hardest parts of life and lead me to a more positive outlook. I'm so lucky to have constant, true friends who have been with me since high school but I've also been blessed with new friends who encourage me to be a better person. I also wouldn't have met Brett if it weren't for my friends, and that's pretty special. The family I have gained at my new school has already made me feel at home and I have a brand new circle of friends who have welcomed me with open arms.

Brett, who has been the most unexpected blessing in my life... he has made me feel so loved and supported through all of my STUFF this summer. He has seen more tears than anyone and he has stayed by my side through it all, holding my hand and guiding me in the right directions. I'm so lucky that I get to be his wife next year!

Finally, my mom. Sometimes she feels so far away and my heart drops at the thought of losing her seven years ago this Sunday. I still question God all the time, just like I did on the Friday afternoon that changed my life forever. Why did she have to go when she did? Couldn't she have stuck around until I had graduated high school? Couldn't she have been there to be my shoulder to cry on through my first breakup? What about when I was diagnosed with MS? Or when I got my first real job? When the love of my life asked me to marry him? What about last week, when I found out I finished my first four graduate classes with a 4.0? After 7 years, she's still the first person I want to call when something big happens. I don't think that will ever change. But here is what I know: she pushes me when I need it. She catches me when I'm falling. She holds me when I'm scared. Because of her, I know how to talk to students who are grieving. I know how to support the kids who just CAN'T on a Tuesday afternoon because I've been there. I know that when one of my girls feels like the world is against her, it's OK to let her cry it out. We haven't had the same experiences, but I know I'm equipped with the empathy I need to work through it with them. I will always be wounded... but I will also be a lover, a teacher, a listener, a helper, a giver, a comforter, a hugger, and a fighter.

I will conclude with a quote from my very first blog post, age 17:

I'm so thankful she's always watching over me... healing the wounds.

Déjà vu

In 2015, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis -- a chronic disease that makes me feel funny sometimes and leaves scars on my brain. Until late last year, I hadn't had many symptoms and the worst part of the disease was taking medication twice a day (10:36 pm and 4:22 am unless I wanted to have reactions). In August, something really weird started happening to me and not many people know about it because... I didn't really know what to say until now. I didn't know how to explain it and honestly, it sounds like I'm making it up or I'm crazy. I did a lot of research and I had a pretty good idea what was happening to me, but I didn't have any type of confirmation so I tried to stop thinking about it. I had a sinking feeling that I was having seizures.

It's happened 14 times since I started keeping track in December. I start to feel unlike myself. It feels like I've been exactly where I am before, like I've experienced exactly what I'm experiencing before, like I've read what I'm reading before. "Deja vu" is as close as I can get to describing this feeling, but it's much more extreme than that. In a minute or two, I feel exhausted, defeated, drained, confused, scared, nauseous--honestly, it feels like I can't go on. It is one of the worst feelings I've ever experienced, and that's saying something because I've been through a lot. It's really scary and emotional and the worst part is that it's so difficult to describe. Friends who have witnessed it tell me I seem absent or a little sad, but wouldn't know anything was happening if I hadn't told them. I keep notes on what was taking place when it happens, and when I go back and read them, the experiences seem unfamiliar. It's almost like they didn't happen at all. I have been anxious and irritable and I haven't spent a lot of time with the people I care about because of that.

As you can imagine, describing these episodes to my dad or even my doctor was pretty difficult. The first time, Dr. M thought they may be related to migraines and suggested I start keeping track (which I did). Yesterday, I had an MRI and again explained to him what was going on. We went through the pictures of my brain and he identified a scar on the far edge of my brain. It was not a new scar. It was a larger scar that appeared on my scans from 2017, but until August, it hadn't been a problem. He told me my notes and descriptions led him to believe this scar was causing me to have seizures--temporal lobe seizures, often identified by odd feelings of déjà vu and fear. Symptoms of this disease were bound to show up eventually.

I'm relieved to have a reason. I'm thankful because this means I'm not crazy. I'm nervous because there will be more testing (an EEG) and more medication (anti-seizure)... but I'm grateful to have an answer. I'm looking forward to waking up in the morning and not being afraid. It has been really scary not knowing when it was going to happen or how awful I would feel. I have not felt like myself in months. I have felt angry, mean, scared, ANXIOUS, sad, and all sorts of feelings that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I'm grateful to have a reason for all of this and I am looking forward to the end of it. I can't wait to feel like myself and act like myself again. Thankful to have my guardian angel with me all the time.