Why I Tell My Story.

Hey folks.  Hope you all had a good Monday.
I was thinking about writing this post a while ago and I kept forgetting, but something happened today that seemed like a little reminder from God :)
People often ask me why I am so open about my disorders, experiences and traumas.  They ask how I could possibly talk so freely about the horrors that have happened to me and the hell I've been through, because it simply must re-traumatize me every time.  False.  It's still not a breeze to talk about it, but it has become much easier.  It has become a living tribute to how someone can hit rock bottom in the depths of hell, and still push to reclaim life.  More significantly, to me, it has become so very important.  Today, a friend opened up to me about her eating disorder, kept secret from the world, and her struggles with it.  She remarked that she was so grateful (paraphrasing) to have someone to talk to who understands, without judgement.
It is so important to have someone to talk to about your struggles!  Even if it's not treatment, not a therapist.  SOMEONE who understands can make a world of difference.  Every day we hear stories about people who have suffered mercilessly with depression, bullying, eating disorders, body image disorders, trauma, and so much more, who have died and taken their lives because they had no one to talk to about it.  Every time you see it on the news, you hear friends and family saying, "We had no clue, this isn't like her at all..."  How well do you think you know everyone around you?  Every time I have been hospitalized, someone has said "Why?  She's always so happy and upbeat!"
And so, to my point.  Why I tell my story.  I no longer carry shame from my past; my depression, my self-harm, my eating disorders, my sexual abuse and my rape.  I used to be disgusted with myself, finding relief only in hurting myself or making myself look as ugly as I felt.  I thought I was damaged goods, that no one could ever love someone with so much shit in her past.  But what I've learned is that my past is just that--the past.  Things were done to me, things happened to me, and diagnoses were thrown at me.  They don't define who I AM.  Not anymore, not ever.
I tell my story not only for my benefit, but for the hope that it may show others that there is no shame in talking about their stories.  People need to know that there IS life after suffering.  I found it, and it's the most amazing thing.  It's more amazing than any life I could ever have imagined.  There are nowhere NEAR enough resources for women to find a safe place to open up.  Especially since so many disorders are surfacing at such young ages now.  The fact that people are aware of this dilemma means that we are mildly heading in the right direction, but people are still finding these things out much too late.  I went to treatment with so many girls who had eating disorders, traumas, self-harm and abuse very early in life, many disorders manifesting very young, around 10 years old.  They didn't know what they were doing or the reasons behind it until they were older, weighing 70 pounds and wasting away, or with scars covering their bodies, or attempting suicide.  In the worst case scenarios, succeeding.  This must stop!
I am not happy with the things that have happened to me, but I am PROUD to be where I am today.  I met so many women at TK who went through hell, and I kept thinking, "I had no idea.  If I was her, I would be dead from what she went through."  The truth is, I AM one of those women, one who figuratively lied down on the highway and prayed to be taken away from this life.  And here I am, writing my story, unashamed.  If I can inspire ONE person to come forward with her story to seek help before it is too late, then I have succeeded.
Please please PLEASE, if you are struggling, TALK to someone.  Talk to me, talk to family, talk to a therapist.  Call an anonymous hotline.  Get. Help.  While there are not enough, there ARE resources and there IS help out there, you simply have to ask.
If anyone wants to talk, please tell me.  I may not always be mentally/emotionally available to be much help, but it's something.  Something is better than nothing; better than suffering in silence, as I did for 20 years.
Please, be kind to yourselves and be kind to each other.

You may not believe me now, but please never forget: YOU ARE WORTH IT.

xoxo <3