Content Notice: This story contains references to Sexual Assault, Substance Abuse, Self-harm, and Suicide.
I have struggled with my mental health my whole life, having been diagnosed with major depressive disorder and having doctors go back and forth about anxiety and borderline personality disorder.
One of my lowest points was when I turned 18. I was in college and was waiting for my significant other to be out of a late evening class. I was waiting in a private practice room for music students. There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it, a man forced his way in and assaulted me.
After he left, I got help to call the police. I was at the hospital and asked for them to call my mom. When I asked my mom to come to be with me in the hospital, she said no because she had work in the morning.
After attempting to heal from the assault and heartache about my mother’s choice for a few weeks, I got in a fight with my dad and he kicked me out.
My ex said I could stay with him, but that was short-lived due to emotional abuse. I was left homeless and hurting. I had been sleeping 17 hours a day and my mental illnesses were not being treated anymore. I started engaging in risky behavior like getting high and drunk with strangers, going places with people I didn’t know, carrying weapons, and dating people I knew were bad for me. I had convinced myself that if safe behavior wasn’t going to keep me safe and loved, why bother being safe?