I wasn’t entirely sure where this post fit, but I thought it could work with Emotional Mastery. I haven’t quite managed to ‘master’ something as complicated as emotions, but it’s gotten there, and I felt like writing a happy post to express my gratitude for the changes that have been happening in me.

Beginning in sixth grade, I developed a minor case of depression and low self esteem that grew exponentially over the years and into high school. I lost friends every year of middle school due to their own depression, threats of suicide and a growing belief that I wasn’t good enough for anyone and that I had to block all friendships out of my life, and all relationships. I became resentful of myself, closed in, and all too eager to disconnect from the world. All of the world’s miseries for some reason I placed upon my shoulders and felt regret and guilt, even for things that weren’t my fault, as though somehow I was to blame. Except that certain things didn’t even happen when I was born, and other things were out of my control completely. But I didn’t pay attention to that at the time. In fact the only things I paid attention to were the mistakes I made and the horrific emotional events that had triggered my depression and only made it worse throughout my short life. I was like some tragic character from a music video or movie, wandering about through the rain with no clear direction. I viewed everything as symbolic- but even though I still do, back then, the symbols were always bad. I drew bad things and often wrote sad things, even scaring myself sometimes with what I thought or did. Though at times things seemed to lighten up, like around the holidays, by 9th grade two years ago I stopped feeling good even then. In fact I was starting to lose any emotions at all. I didn’t even feel sad anymore, I just felt lost and without reason. So when 10th grade rolled around and I nearly killed myself at the beginning of this year, I shocked myself to my core and contemplated my life for the next two weeks, terrified I was actually going to end it.

For the longest time I had detested the idea of therapy. I’d tried it once, but when the woman treated me like I had the intelligence of a 4-year-old, I quickly dismissed the idea and refused to go. But after my near-suicide attempt I began to wonder if I really should try again, as a friend of mine at a summer camp had told me it took her 9 therapists before she found the right one. So I brought it up to my mom one day that I would like to try and find one more therapist.
The next one I chose ended up being the best choice. She was right next to my neighborhood, so it only took about two minutes to drive there at any time. At first the sessions were awkward and full of me trying to figure out what I should say or how to say it. But with time and talking about the key events that had always plagued me, she began to unveil the realities behind these events and where it had left me. Ultimately, I was slowly beginning to realize that things weren’t as they had seemed, and that all of those accidents weren’t really my fault at all, but just unfortunate events. She taught me to start acknowledging the good things about myself and my accomplishments instead of my failures- which were trivial things at best. I was beginning to see myself as a blank slate, a bit rough around the edges, that needed a bit of touching up and rethinking.

By the end of the summer, all of the things that had so easily kept me up at night leaving me with three hours of sleep on average the past five years suddenly seemed small and far away. I had found ways to discredit those thoughts or banish them altogether. I started to change my clothes and my appearance, and I was beginning to laugh more and have fun on vacations. There were times I began to question why I told myself these things or why I’d felt that way, but I began to realize too that the anger and frustration I’d felt with myself for feeling sad at all hadn’t helped the matter.
The suicide note I had written I abruptly crossed out, countered in an empowering message on the rest of the journal’s pages, and threw away into the garbage. I deleted the sad quote pictures I’d made and cleared out old papers, drawings and whatever else I could find that didn’t do me any good to hold onto. It was like physically tossing out my old beliefs and replacing them with new, beautiful things.
I came across Tiny Buddah’s 40 Ways For Loving Yourself at a book store with my Gram and read it cover to cover in under four days. It inspired me to start feeling less frustration but more compassion for myself and the struggle I had faced and so far had overcome.
But I never knew how good things could get until the school year started.

I was somewhat of a new person and looked forward to beginning the school year in August with a fresh mindset. I talked to old friends, got caught up on what others had done over the summer, and all of my teachers and classes were great. It wasn’t until I became closer friends with one person though that my life really started to change for the better. We had talked last year, but I was still in the phase of ‘have no relationships,’ so I didn’t talk to her much and wasn’t invited to things due to a stand-offish nature. But very quickly we realized we were both artistic and slightly nerdy with an appreciation for puns, and a friendship grew that I hadn’t known could exist. She introduced me to her ‘squad,’ which was a group of about 12 other kids who were smart or artistic among other things, some of whom I had previously known in middle school. We all began to hang out more.
I ended up going to homecoming with this group, and I hadn’t been to a dance since middle school. Before then, though, we’d been dress shopping together then went swimming at her grandparent’s house, and it was the first time I’d been swimming in years. The night was great and fun and I developed a newfound interest (I had a crush on him before but didn’t get to talk to him much before then) in the guy who drove me to homecoming and to the afterparty.

Following this homecoming event, I felt as though for the first time in a long time I actually belonged somewhere. I was going from one event to the next, and after telling my close friend about my crush on the guy who had driven me, she told me she wanted to use that news for good and that, and I quote: “I’m so happy because I know something you don’t!”
As it turned out, the same guy had told her about how he’d never realized how nice I was and that he wanted to ask me out sometime. We have now been dating for over two months, and he came over yesterday for christmas with my dad’s side of the family. He’s a goofball and yet he can be deeply profound at times, strange at others, and this time last year I would have looked in the mirror and told myself I’d never find a guy who would have any interest in someone like me.

Not only that, but even when I came down with a case of Mono three weeks ago my newfound happiness and thrill refused to die down. I was forced to calm down during finals week, was excused from a presentation I didn’t want to give, and learned my boyfriend missed me the one day I was out sick from school from exhaustion. Apparently he kept checking his phone and didn’t talk as much, as though waiting for me to text him. I viewed the sickness as though I was meant to have it, and after that the sickness was extremely mild.
My family was really beginning to see a difference in me. My dad said I laughed a lot more, and I helped out around the house more often. My brother saw me going off and hanging out with friends almost every weekend, if not every other weekend. My aunt was surprised but pleased to know I’d actually started dating someone. It was like an entirely new person had shown up and replaced the old one, but I was being more myself and feeling great doing it.

Two weeks ago, during finals week, my boyfriend surprised me by showing up at my front door in the morning with a christmas present. He’d gotten me a key necklace and wrote me a poem with a matching theme, and had even dipped the paper in tea to make it look old, since he knew I was a history fan. I loved the rest of the stuff in the pack along with it, but the poem and the necklace were what stood out to me the most. Not only because it was thoughtful, but it was also the first present I had gotten from someone who wasn’t family in a long time like this. And because the key became a new profound symbol.

Keys and locks have always been deep symbols for me. I always imagined locking my heart away in a silver, ice-covered chest where no one could find it and hurt it again- no joke, I visualized this often. But this key become something completely different. It was the key that unlocked the cage and set me free. It became the symbol for everything good that had happened in the past six months. The new friends I had made, the fun times I had shared, the new relationship I had, the new image of myself that I’d gained, and especially the new life I was beginning to lead. It was a symbol for everything, and I loved it so much I nearly began to cry that night just looking at it. He wouldn’t have known how much it meant to me, but it really touched my heart in a way few things ever can.

This is my first year in over five years that I’ve celebrated the holidays with family and friends without depression. Tomorrow will be the first day since elementary school that I’m having more than 2 people over to my house for a chilling out day, despite the rain outside. And despite nearly killing myself at the beginning of this year, I am ending the year depression-free with so much more than I could have ever hoped to find, and starting a new year with the goal of being depression free by this time next year as well.

My New Year’s Resolution is to find myself, stay true to myself, and to continue seeing all that life has planned for me, my family, and my friends.

I hope all of you have had a good holiday season and wish you all the best! (=