Breathing. It's such a necessary part of life yet most of us don’t realize that it's happening unless something interferes with our ability to do so. Everyone has different experiences with depression, and society has built up this stereotype of what a person should feel if they have that illness, and if they don’t then their feelings don’t matter. I imagined it to be a sort of dark looming presence that would envelop a person and make them feel, well, depressed. For a long time I didn’t think what I was feeling was valid, and therefore, didn’t think anyone would really care. On TV there would be depictions of people mourning someone's death like Haley James-Scott from the show One Tree Hill losing her mother to cancer. She described it as …show more content…
There were some very bleak points that year where it seemed like nothing was ever going to get better, and even if I knew it was, it just didn’t seem worth it to stick around and find out. So many nights that year were spent draining my tear ducts, and there came a point in time when I couldn’t bear it anymore, all I wanted to do was put myself out of the misery that I had honestly probably culminated for myself. I remember feeling selfish and ungrateful for wanting to take my own life because of what it would do to my loving parents and sister. They have always supported me, and were never part of the problems I was having, they knew nothing about what I was going through, and they aren't aware of any of this now. I intend to keep it that way. I have perfected the art of sobbing uncontrollably in silence so no one could hear. If I needed an excuse as to why my eyes were red and puffy, I would eat some Flaming Hot Cheetos, and say it was because of that (I love spicy foods, but I can't eat them without all of my sinuses clearing). I didn’t want to burden them with any of what I was feeling because I knew they would think it was their fault. It
But I did not know about the demons he was fighting within that is why it hurts because looking back he was screaming but no one came to rescue him. But he never told anyone he had depression not even his girlfriend, and I still do not get it. But I am still fully grasping and learning from it. The weekend before he committed suicide I was on a hike with him and some other friends and no one noticed. This is what hurts me the most because I could have done something but did not. The rest of the school week I was a mess. I attended school Thursday because I was still could not grasp it. His wake was scheduled for Friday and that was when I finally realized. I spent the majority of Thursday night crying and got little sleep and stayed home from school Friday. At hs wake, I could barely keep my composure and started to cry when I saw his casket and talked to his parents. It took me weeks to start acting myself again and by then I was behind on school work. My teachers were very accepting of my situation and gave me extra time so when I turned in all my late work I lost no credit but instead of feeling grateful I felt
Death and Grieving Imagine that the person you love most in the world dies. How would you cope with the loss? Death and grieving is an agonizing and inevitable part of life. No one is immune from death’s insidious and frigid grip. Individuals vary in their emotional reactions to loss.
It is common for those experiencing grief to deny the death altogether. Many people do this by avoiding situations and places that remind them of the deceased (Leming & Dickinson, 2016). However, by simply avoiding the topic of death and pain, the mourner only achieves temporary relief while in turn creating more permanent lasting agony (Rich, 2005). In this stage, mourners will begin to feel the full weight of the circumstance. Whether the death of a loved one was sudden or long-term, survivors will feel a full range of emotions, such as sadness, guilt, anger, frustration, hopelessness, or grief. While many of these emotions can cause serious suffering, it is important for the survivor to feel whatever emotions come up and deal with those feelings, rather than trying to suppress any
the taking of a life. Now it is hard for me to sit here and type this paper
Using narratives to gain an insight into human experience is becoming an increasingly popular method of exploration. Assuming that people are in essence narrative beings that experience every emotion and state through narrative, the value of exploring these gives us a unique understanding. Narrative is thought to act as instrument to explore how an individual constructs their own identity (Czarniawska, 1997) and explain how each individual makes sense of the world around them (Gabriel, 1998). It may also give us an understanding into individual thought processes in relation to individual decision making practices (O’Connor, 1997). It is evident from studies such as Heider and Simmel (1944), that there appears to be an instinctive nature in people to introduce plots structures and narratives into all situations, with an intention to construct meaning to all aspects of life in its entirety. The value of narrative is that it is a tool that allows us to understand what it means to be human and gives us an insight into a person’s lived experience whilst still acknowledging their cultural and social contexts. Narrative is thought to be significance as it is ‘a fruitful organizing principle to help understand the complex conduct of human beings (p.49)’ (Sarbin, 1990) The construction of a person’s narrative is thought to be dependent on each person’s individual awareness of themselves and the circumstances that surround them. However, a debate to whether a person is able to formulate a valid narrative in the face of a mental illness such as schizophrenia has emerged. Sufferer’s symptoms are often thought to interfere with their abilities to perceive within a level deemed acceptable to their society’s norms and therefore the validity ...
Depression is quiet. I had learned that at the beginning of high school when all of the sudden, my self-depreciating thoughts had gone silent. The feeling of elation I had experienced that moment was mighty. I felt that it was too good to be true, that there was no way that I had freed myself of the depression I experienced since my childhood. And I was right. I learned that silence was deafening, it was louder than any of the hateful words I told myself.
It had come to the attention of my family that I had some sort of psychological problem and something had to be done. I was always labeled as a shy and quiet kid, and like my family I had thought nothing more of my behavior. However, now it had become something more obvious. I had told my parents the kinds of problems I was having. Basically I didn't want to talk to anyone or to be anywhere near anyone I didn't know. I didn't really want to leave my house for any reason for fear that I might have to talk to someone. I was so critical and scrutinizing in relation to myself that I couldn't even enter into a conversation. Everyone seems to have a part of themselves that lends itself to thoughts of pessimism and failure, but mine was something that was in the forefront of my mind at all times. Something telling me that everything I did was a failure, and that anything I ever did would not succeed. Through discussion with my family it was decided that I should move out of my parents house to a place where I could find treatment and get a job. I was to reside with my sister Lisa, her partner Brynn, and their Saint Bernard in Greensboro.
I was very excited to make a new step in my life, college. I came with high hopes and aspirations. My hometown is not near Arizona, It is Lake Tahoe, Nevada, so going home for the weekend was simply out of the question. I had a great time for the first month, enjoying freedom. However, I was sitting in my room one night writing a paper with my roommate, and one of my friends from home called me. She said that one of our good friends from high school had just committed suicide earlier that day. I didn’t know how to react to this; I was scared, and confused. Why did he do it? Why didn’t anyone know that he was unhappy? Was he unhappy? I felt regret, thinking I should have been there for him. Once the crying commenced, my mother called me telling me that my last grandma had gone into the hospital. She had collapsed in her apartment and was rushed to the emergency center. I had no idea what to do. I felt like God was just condemning me and attacking me for some reason. I went into this deep depression and I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, if they did, I would simply start crying. I was alone, and no one knew who I was. I was too far away from home to go to my friend’s ceremony.
Our family was never close but we didn’t care. Nobody thought one day things might be different. All of that changed on September 20, 2014 when a hostile argument ended with the death of both my aunt and uncle. For years their marriage was falling apart. My aunt was very materialistic and wanted my cousins to have whatever they asked for but in reality my uncle knew it was impossible financially for them to achieve this. He would try to explain this to her but it usually led to arguments where she would then threaten to leave him so in the end she got her way which led to their vast debt. My uncle had a drinking problem but went to AA classes for her to commiserate their marriage and family. The night before this event he had drank a beer which led into a dispute which ended with my aunt taking the kids to her mom’s and they stayed their while my uncle just stayed home. Less than twelve hours later the mailman walked up to a house with my aunt dead on the front porch and my uncle inside on the living room floor dead. The screams caught the attention of the neighbors and the police was then called. This is a significant experience in my life that I faced and that had an impact on me during my freshman year and still affects me today. It was a homicide/suicide accident and it deeply impacted my family and me. Not only did it affect my school life but my home life as well.
My mental illness is something that I believe goes unnoticed, but that is also a substantial part of my life. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression when I was in elementary school, and at that point it was very mild. However, as I began to get older, my anxiety grew with me; by the time I was in high school, it was almost debilitating.
On April 17, 2018, I had the opportunity to go to an event about mental illness. I was able to hear people share their stories on how they found their own light out of their own struggles. There was videos of others who shared their own experience on how they dealt with it. I noted common mental illness, according to the video, that were shared. Bipolar, depression, and anxiety were common. A few things caught my attention, many people who have a mental illness are judged and put down. This only makes matter worse, which can lead to substance abuse. Substance abuse brings numbness, so one does not have to deal with reality. Jessie Wright, an ARC Alumni, spoke in this event. She deals with bipolar, schizophrenic and anxiety. She used drugs
The past week has opened my mind up toward interpreting texts and by realizing that there is much to be said about a picture than meets the eye. I observed many kinds of texts throughout the week, books, audio, video, and articles from the newspaper. Over the weekend I had the chance to be at both ends of the text and thought it would be most appropriate to share my experience. The weekend was jam packed full of experiences that changed the way that I look at texts. On Saturday while riding with Delaware County EMS we were dispatched to a wreck on 1000 North outside of Albany, Indiana where a male victim was ejected out of his car and died. The victim was only 31 years old, a tragedy. The male was traveling down the road at a high rate of
Sleepiness nights. Non- stop crying and over analyzing the tragic death that we have just encountered. For much of the population grief is not something that can just be overlooked, and not being able to seek medical attention. As we get older we try to understand the process of life and death. But for many, this tragic event can change someone’s life forever.
Lastly your families and friends that are always there for you are going to feel that guilt. Parents that have watched you grow ever since you were little. The guilt is going to start kicking those people that loved you so much. Every day they will ask themselves what I could have done to prevent this for happening. Tears will drop every day because they will miss you. Suicide is not the answer ask for help. “Yolo” life is a precious things just be happy that you are giving this
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,