Speak Now is Denebola’s space for students to have an opportunity to share their real life experiences in a medium free of judgement and consequences. Here is the third installment of the series answering the prompt, “…and no one even noticed.”
Somebody to Lean On
By Anonymous
I am so blessed that so many people come to me seeking help and consolation for their problems. I mean, that has to mean something, right?
People just find me easy to talk to, and I’m always there for them. I’m that shadow lurking in the background that knows everybody’s secrets.
I’ve talked many people out of suicide, imprinting in people’s brains that they are beautiful, that they are worth it, on a daily basis. I am a bottle that is overflowing with secrets that are not even my own.
The problem with being a key part in other people’s self discovery is that I have yet to discover and accept myself. It’s hard to preach self love and body confidence when, in reality, you shame yourself with every glance in the mirror.
It’s hard to be there for others when I am not there for myself.
Sometimes it gets lonely. It’s not like I have anyone to lean on. Everyone I help continues his or her journey, and that’s okay, but it’s also so painful to endure everyday. I see people walking the halls, and though I know more than most, all I get is a grateful smile as they pass by.
Not once have I gotten any consolation about my own problems, but I’ve learned to accept that. When people give me that smile it’s the best feeling in the world because I know I am making a difference, that I am potentially saving a life.
At times it all gets too much to handle.
Through helping suicidal people I slowly became just like them. I was literally taking on their grief so they would be strong enough to carry on.
Finding out that I was asthmatic and had anxiety problems at the same time really took a toll on me. I was at dance class last November. We were warming up with jumping jacks and squat jumps.
About five minutes into the warm up, I knew something was wrong.
I tried to ask the teacher if I could go to the bathroom, and that’s when I realized I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breath.
I had no idea what was going on. I kept heaving and heaving, yet still couldn’t get any air. I was petrified.
And no one even noticed.
It took 10 minutes for my breathing to be stable enough to have a sip of water, and another 15 minutes to get my heart rate to somewhat normal pace. After I got home, I was telling my brother what happened when I had my first anxiety attack.
I started hyperventilating again. So far, that night has been the worst one of my life.
I have anxiety attacks every few months now. Each one is followed by days spent wallowing in depression and suicidal thoughts: Is something wrong with me? Why does it have to be so hard to simply breath?
I had one a few weeks ago. I told my brother about the suicidal thoughts. He was the first person I ever brought this topic up with, and he sucks at helping me through things, but it feels amazing to know that there is someone that is there for me.
Last year, I struggled with body image issues. I was 13. With today’s social media statuses and Kardashian-Jenner influence, it’s not very surprising that so many young girls and women alike have lost their body confidence.
I still struggle with the way I look on some days, but nobody knows that. My parents never suspected a thing, and my so called “friends” didn’t care enough to look into what was wrong.
I am not trying to play victim. Sadly, many people struggle with body image issues. When people started turning to me for a boost of body confidence, I preached for them to just love themselves, because life is so much easier when you love yourself.
In reality though, I was eating away at myself, trying to block out that annoying voice in my head that kept calling me pudgy and pathetic.
Lately I, too, have started to consider suicide. I don’t know what to do. Everyone leans on me, but how much weight can one person support. Who can I lean on?
Some days I feel so devoid of life, so hopeless that I just want it all to end. But I have my mission and I will not stop until it is completed. I will not end my life before it has even begun.
For goodness sakes, I can’t even drive yet! I have yet to cross so many things off my bucket list, and by the time I do, I trust that I will be more than just that one girl who’s easy to talk to.
I am faithful that I will eventually have friends who can support me the way I support them. I talked someone out of suicide seven hours ago. It’s time for me to talk myself out of my own grave.
Loving yourself is much harder than loving others, but I am up for the challenge.
