BIGGER

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I got a phone call the other day from my incredible woman of an aunt, who has forever been a role model to me. Despite always living states away from each other, she has always seemed to understand me on a level that not many other people do. She always seems to know what is inside of my head and my heart, and connects the two. She is a voice of reason and logic. During our hour-long catch up call, she told me that she thought I had a talent for writing. She said she thought I could help people through this blog. Hearing this from her meant more than it would have meant coming from most other people. It sort of woke me up. I realized I want this thing to be bigger than just me.

I reluctantly started this blog a few months ago, thinking, “Okay, two people MAX will read this thing. Three if I include myself. So what’s the harm in putting this stuff out there? It’s not like it’s going to change anything.” I started this blog for me; I wanted it to be a place to sort through my thoughts and piece them together. Maybe I even wanted it to be a scrapbook, of sorts. But it has stirred up things in me (for lack of a less corny term…) that I didn’t know were there. I realized how much I love writing. I’ve also realized how much I love the idea of being a source of comfort and help for someone. I was afraid of this blog changing things. The last thing I wanted was for people I knew reading this and looking at me any differently, because most people don’t know I have struggled with this stuff. I didn’t want to put myself in such a vulnerable and open spot. But the more I write here, the more I realize that I want more than anything for this blog to change things. I desperately want this to help someone.

When I started thinking about what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, counseling was definitely on the table. There was always a part of me, and at times a pretty large part, that wanted to help kids like me. I thought about how cool it would have been if one of my doctors had been able to tell me that they knew what it felt like to be where I stood, that they could relate to me. Not that I didn’t have good doctors, I had a few great ones. One even changed the game for me. But no one was able to quite get on my level. People can read textbooks and look at case studies and examine patients and have an impressive degree hanging in a frame on the wall of their office, but until you struggle with it yourself, you cannot begin to imagine what it’s like. I make it sound like it’s this fancy, exclusive club with a line out the door that you need a gold card membership card to get into. But it’s not the kind of club you want access to.

After I started writing my stories down on this blog, I started thinking about how much I would have loved to have someone to talk to who knew what I was talking about. I would have been so grateful for someone who had gotten through it to show me what their life was like after they got over the hill. Someone who could tell me first hand that I wasn’t as crazy or as alone or as stupid as I felt; that things would get better. 

I think this blog may be my way of being that person for others. I think that’s the direction I want to take this thing. I want this to be a place that people can reach out, know that they aren’t alone. It’s still going to be my way of sorting through the massive amount of shit going on in my head, but I don’t want this to be just for my benefit. My hope is that someone, somewhere takes comfort in these words. That some little girl sitting in her bedroom in the middle of the night, terrified to fall sleep because that means she has to wake up and start a whole new day, will read this and get even just a sliver of hope.

Because I know what I would have done for that sliver of hope.