Where do you start when trying to write a Thanksgiving post? If you have any ideas, please let me know, and I'll keep it in mind for next year! For now, let’s just jump right into it!
This past year has been filled with its fair share of emotions. From extreme lows to exciting highs, I have multiple ways I could reflect back on the different recent events of my life. However, this year I have decided to respond with thankfulness. If you’ve been following my blog for the past few months, you are familiar with my life and may question the stance I’ve chosen to take. This year has not been easy by any means. I recognize that, and I've shared that. Tears have filled my eyes more times than I can count, and I've often felt defeated. It hurts more than words can describe, but for it I am thankful. Shocked? So am I. When I originally planned this post, I was going to write about my family and friends. In fact, up until the point, I started to type that was my full intent. My fingers started grazing the keyboard and words began to form, but they weren't what I was expecting. All of a sudden instead of mentioning my family and friends I was discussing how thankful I was for my struggles of the past year. Crazy right? Don't get me wrong I am thankful beyond words for my family and friends. Throughout the year, I've learned who my real friends are. They've stood by me at my darkest of times and loved me despite my broken pieces. From friends randomly showing up at my house when I am having an extremely rough day to family calling me just to say hi, I have the most amazing support system. Without my support system and the good Lord above, I don’t know where I would be today. So to all of you, thank you. As many of you know, in the past year I have been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder. All of which, I’ve silently struggled with for years. There were days when I didn’t think I would be able to live any longer. Then there were the nights (and still are the nights) when I relive my sexual assault. I won't lie; it sucks, and I do wish I never had to experience any of it. However, this is my life, and I can't run away from myself. I could choose to be bitter and full of hate, but that would solve nothing. Instead, I will choose to be thankful. I am thankful for my struggles just not in the same way some of you may think. I can guarantee you that you’re not going to hear me saying I’m glad I struggle with mental illnesses or have been sexually assaulted. I know just as well as you do, that being happy about those things would be rather messed up. However, these struggles have given me incredible opportunities that I could have never imagined. For starters, talk about this blog. Ever since I have been young, I’ve always loved to write. When I was in my lowest point this past year, I wrote daily in my journal. Eventually, I decided that I wanted to speak out. I choose to speak out not for myself, but for others. I wanted to let others know they were not alone. I had silently struggled for so long that I became convinced I was the only one who struggled. I didn't want to be seen as weak, so I stayed quiet. Once I sought help, I realized I wasn’t the only one. It took a while, but eventually with the help of my therapist; I became brave enough to make my struggles public. It was terrifying. I wasn’t sure how people would react and was afraid they would now see me as some crazy girl. I could never have prepared myself for the amount of love that was soon to follow. Over the months, I’ve been given the incredible opportunity to speak to classmates and total strangers about different mental illnesses. On October 6th, I was fortunate enough to share my story of sexual assault with nearly 500 people. I am currently involved in a group that advocates the end of domestic and sexual violence. Without my experiences, these opportunities would never be the same. Sure, I could still be a part of these events, but it would not have the same effect. It's like being told not to text and drive by someone who has never experienced any trauma because of it. Of course, you nod and say you would never do it, but then a few days later you keep doing it. Months later you hear a mother talk about how her daughter was killed because of texting and driving. Your skin becomes filled with goosebumps and from then on you vow to never text and drive again. When you hear from someone with a personal attachment to the issue at hand, everything starts to become more meaningful. I feel the same way with my personal story. From the outside looking in, my story isn’t beautiful by any means. It’s made of dark and ugly pieces hardly sticking together. I’ve learned to make it beautiful though because of what it has given me. My struggles have caused me to develop more bravery, strength, and confidence than I could ever imagine. I’ve grown as a person and the feisty little girl I have always been once again resurfaced. So no, I’m not thankful for my struggles themselves. I’m thankful for all they have given me. They’ve molded me into a strong independent woman. I’ve become an advocate to stop the stigma surrounding mental illnesses and violence. My blog has allowed me to inspire people around the world. For these things I am thankful. Now I want to take a moment to thank my readers. As I have acknowledged before, this life is hard, and I would never choose it. Sometimes it makes me want to quit writing. However, I feel it would be wrong of me to stop. Not only is writing a huge passion of mine, but my work has started to inspire others. When I started this blog, I honestly didn’t think anyone would read it. After all, who would want to read about a girl with what some would call a "messed up" life? You've proved me wrong, though; it turns out people don't think I'm as crazy as I convinced myself I was. So thank you. Thank you for your kind words and for sharing my blog with your family and friends. I wish there was a way for me to personally express to each and every one of you how thankful I am for all of your support. What are you thankful for? Let me know in the comments! Much love, Bri
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Dear Depression, I feel you. Throughout the past month, you’ve been creeping in again slowly but surely. Your filthy grip is attempting to hold me down. You’re like the one fly that I can’t seem to kill. There are days when I think you’ve flown away and other days I can’t keep you away from me. Throughout the years you’ve hit me in waves. There was a time when I didn’t think I’d see my 17th birthday, but I did. I went on to see my 18th and 19th birthday. Now, I’ll be damned if I don’t see my 20th, 21st, and 22nd birthdays and all of my birthdays after that. You cause me to sleep all day and night or don’t allow me to sleep at all. Simple things like going to eat or showering become difficult. I’ve even started to leave my door unlocked throughout the day so that in the event I fall asleep; my friend can come wake me up to get food. Missing Bible study and support group has become a habit instead of a rare occurrence. I go to class looking like a zombie and count the minutes until it is over. When asked if I’m still swimming, I laugh. I haven’t been in the pool in over three weeks. If I’m having a difficult time just trying to eat and shower, what makes you think I can swim laps for an hour every day? My clothes hamper is overflowing with dirty laundry. Each day I look into my closet and see the dirty heap of colors before trying to convince myself I’ll take care of it today. Dirty dishes sit staring at me waiting to be washed, but one look and I go back to bed. Remember my speech three weeks ago? I'm sure you do depression; you filled me that day and had me in tears. It's a miracle that I didn't break down in front of the class. Oh, and let me remind you about the church bonfire on Halloween weekend. We all danced and sang, and I was having a wonderful time, but for a few brief minutes, you hit me. The song changed, and that's when it happened. Quietly, I got up and went to the restroom for a few minutes while tears streamed down my face. Now, my body is full of excitement for upcoming events, but you keep telling me to cancel. You say that I'll just get hurt. Things will never work, so why try? You're the dark storm cloud that appears in the middle of a young child's birthday party. In this case, I'm the child, and it's my birthday you're trying to ruin. Some tell me to turn to my faith, and I'll be okay. Believe me; I am, but unless they’ve experienced this for themselves they simply do not understand. Others refuse to believe I live with you. Surely you can't suffer from depression if you smile at others and always make others laugh? Maybe they are right. Maybe I don't need to go to therapy. Maybe I don't need to be medicated. Maybe I'd be fine without all of it; maybe I'm just crazy. But I'm not willing to risk the maybes. So depression, this isn't a love letter to you. It's me wanting to break up with you. All I ask is that you release your grip on me. Let me live apart from you. Let me thrive. You've been a part of my life for so long now, and I think it is about time we go our separate ways. I won't give you the stereotypical, "it's not you it's me" line because it is you. I'm not the problem here, you are. I don't love you, in fact, who could? You make life a living hell for all of those that suffer from your grip. Even the so-called "lucky ones" who are considered high functioning don't love you. So move along, you're not welcome here. Sincerely, Someone Who Has Never Loved You "Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible." If you or someone you know may be suffering from depression or any other form of mental illness please seek help. There is hope. I am not providing any sort of professional expertise here, but I have included important phone numbers below.
In the case of immediate danger dial 911. US Suicide Hotline 1-800-784-2433 Crisis Helpline (Any form of crisis) 800-233-4357 Regrettably, I will not be posting a full-length blog this week. The events of the past few days have taken their toll on me. Under normal circumstances, the few days leading up to posting are specifically left for making final revisions. However, I haven’t been able to bring myself to concentrate on my writing long enough. I have not even been able to focus on my school work. Out of respect for myself and my mental health, I have decided to give myself grace and not post this week. I feel worn and weary. Next week I will be back with a new post, but for this week, I must rest. I pray you all have a wonderful week.
Much Love, Bri Dear Mom,
Happy Birthday! This year marks the first time in which we will not be together for your birthday and to tell you the truth, it makes me sad. For the past 19 years, you have selflessly put my needs ahead of your own and your birthday has always been a day to give you a break. From going out to eat to watching movies your birthday means family time. Now this year, it looks a little different. Since I can't be with you in person; I decided to write you a letter. I want to thank you for all that you've done for me. Ever since day one, you've been my biggest supporter. In elementary school, you always came to help out at Halloween, Christmas, and Valentine's Day parties. You were one of the first coaches that I've ever had and taught me that basketball is played by shoving others around with your butt. Although I found it strange at the time, that little lesson came in handy over Christmas break last year when I spent hours playing basketball with my friends. In 2006, you started taking me to swim practice and swim meets across the state. Even when I was exhausted and didn't want to swim anymore that day, you encouraged me and pushed me to keep going. You'd tell me to swim so hard that you'd have to lift me out of the pool. You dutifully kept track of my times and made sure to get all of my splits. Your voice could be heard loud and clear at any meet. Well, maybe not clear, the noise from outside of the pool sounds more like "blah blah blah,” when you’re racing, but none the less I knew you were cheering. During my years away from the pool, you followed me countless places just to watch me play tennis. Although it took you years to figure out the rules and the scoring and you still didn't have it all down when I graduated, it didn't matter; you supported me anyway. Although, I applaud you for how quiet you were during my matches even when I almost would give you a heart attack. Your nervous pacing and clenched fists when I looked over pushed me to take a few breaths and get back to playing like we both knew I could. I loved it when I heard, "Go Cupcake," and still have the card you made me for my senior state tournament in my car. My senior year when I went back to my true love, swimming, you were right there. From taking notes on how I swam to accompanying me on trips to meets, you supported me in every way you could. You’d pack too many blankets and make sure I would have enough food to fuel me through my meets. You talked to physical therapists and had them work with me to improve my flexibility so I could swim faster. You even paid for me to work with a coach each week to improve my technique. After a bad race, you would remind me that it was all okay and that one bad race was not the end of the world. I think back to my home meet senior year when you said, “I wish you would have never quit swimming,” and it makes me cry. You really did believe in me and could see the burning desire I held for the sport. Not only have you supported me in my extra-curricular activities, but you've also supported me in school and life. Although I didn’t realize it when I was young, your strong belief that homework was my responsibility and not yours taught me how to push myself. If I didn't understand something, you'd tell me that I needed to go in and ask questions. When I didn’t know what a word meant, you’d hand me a dictionary and tell me to look it up. Let’s just be clear here; I hate dictionaries, and I hated when you'd hand me one, but thank you. If it wasn’t for all of that, I don’t think I would love learning as much as I do now. In life, you've always had my back. From elementary school days when I had a hard time adjusting to a new school to now, you've shown support for me in ways I cannot imagine. For that I thank you. I know I'm not the most pleasant person to deal with at times, and I have tested you on more than one occasion, but you continue to love me. When I reached out to you because I needed help, you were right there and made sure I got the help I needed. You are nothing short of miraculous and I hope you know that. I think all of my friends would agree that you are incredibly special. You truly amaze me at the love you show for my friends. I've never known anyone else that would come home from a 12-hour shift at the hospital to start baking for their daughter’s friends simply because they want to. Then there are the never ending tennis matches when all of us would horribly under pack for the cold weather, but you would come prepared with extra clothes and blankets for all of us. Although they all had mothers of their own, you made sure they felt your love just as much as I did. Now that I’m away at college, my friends often refer to me as the mother of the group. Just like you, I usually seem to have whatever someone needs. Your famous brownie recipe is now in my memory, and I can whip them up at any time. Don't worry, though; your brownies are better, so I won't take the pleasure of making them away from you when I come back to visit. You’ve taught me what it means to be independent and love others as if they are your own. The words “thank you” seem so weak in comparison to all you have done for me. You’ve taught me how to be a better woman and the importance of laughter. You’ve shown me that you should always lick the spatula and that silly string isn’t just for kids. Most importantly, though, you've loved me and shown me how to love, and for that I cannot thank you enough. If I can one day be half of the amazing woman, wife, and mother you are, I will consider myself to be successful. Happy Birthday Mom! You don't look a day over 29! Love, Your Baby Girl P.S.- Guess what?! I love you! |
AuthorHello everyone, I'm Bri! Here you can find me writing about life in order to help provide you with encouragement and hope. Want to find out more about me? Go visit my "About Me" page! Happy reading! Archives
April 2017
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