1 Surviving.

When we were children, we had lots of dreams and wishes.

At age 5, I wished for a pony.

At age 13, I wished for a boyfriend.

As we get older our wishes change drastically.

At age 16, I started to wish I wasn't alive.

Why? What changed so much from age 13, to age 16?

My brain.

Although part of me still wished for wonderful things, like a pony or boyfriend.

The other part of me, was Sad.

Not the typical sad, the very bad sad.

I was Depressed.

Depression sounds kinda scary right?

I was scared.

Everyday I went to bed hoping I wouldn't wake up.

I said words I shouldn't have said, I stopped thinking rationally.

I lost myself.

That is where my battle begun.

I was officially diagnosed with Bi-polar type 1, major depressive disorder at 17.

Something i'll never forget is how soon it happened.

If someone gets cancer, the oncologist will tell them what to expect.

No one told me what to expect.

I went nose first into a raging sea of doubts, and worry.

Maybe I shouldn't fight and just give in?

So I tried.

At age 17, was the first time I tried to kill myself.

I say the first, because it wasn't the last.

I regretted it, the fear took my body over and I screamed to myself.

But, I survived.

At age 21, I tried again.

At this point I had a wonderful 2 year old son.

But I still wasn't "better".

After a bad day, I came home and said well why not today.

I downed a bottle of pills I had lying around.

As my body went limp, and I grew cold.

My son came and laid by my side on the floor where my legs gave out.

In a pool of my own vomit and urine, he stayed right beside me.

My 2 year old understood better than me, that I just needed someone.

I find new strength and tell myself, "Not here, and not today."

I grab my son and find a neighbor, I beg "Please call 911"

I'm not ready.

That's the last thing I remember.

2 Weeks later i wake up in icu.

Tube down my throat, hoses and cords attached to every inch of my body.

But I survived.

At age 23, I still wasn't "better".

Pills after pills, counselor after counselor.

Nothing worked.

Soon my wishes went from, wishing I was dead to wishing I could live normally.

I wish i can be normal, I wish I can remember what happened yesterday.

I wish I could get out of bed and, do those dishes that have been sitting in my sink for a week.

But I reminded myself, I survived.

At this point I start to wonder something.

Just what the hell is better?

Is there a pamphlet somewhere that tells me just what it is?

In what way am I, a 23 year old different from my 5 year old self?

I'm not.

I still have dreams, I still have wishes.

No I don't still wish for a pony.

But my wishes turned into something that only I can achieve.

Anyone can get a pony.

But only I can have the courage to fulfill my wish to get out of bed today.

Only I can create my own "better".

So tonight, i'll think of 3 more wishes that only I can achieve.

And i'd like you to do the same.

Go to bed and think of 3 wishes.

Make them into a song that gets stuck in your head until your ears bleed.

Sing your song like your life depends on it, because sometimes: it does.

Make yourself a "better".

Remember that today, is better than yesterday.

And if you ever think you can't do it, know that "You're Better" starts with "You".

We Are Surviving.

-Kristen Beardslee

Finally living again.