At some point or the other, I think every sufferer of mental illness reaches their own breaking point.
Today, I was reminiscing about how far I've come and the darkest spots I hit. I though for my second blog post I would delve into some dark points of my own, hoping that some of you may sympathesise.
2010, I had the whole future to look forward to.
I was in my senior year at high school, I could go on t do anything. Sure, my constant urges were still present, but me not being too stressed, it was managable.
During this time, I was also in an often treacherous relationship with my boyfriend at the time. He was unpredictable, wild and extremely fond of lying. Not a day went pass when he didnt lie about something- being faithful, the future, his pass.
Things took a turn for the worse after my eighteenth birthday.
My relationship had degraded to the point of constant abuse. I would get accussed of "cheating",or my harmless words would get twisted by him and flung back at me. When it turned violent and physical, I was so ashamed I had nowhere to turn to.
My OCD spiralled out of control. Panic attacks became frequent. I considered suicide, as I failed to see other ways out.
Whenever I attempted to open up to someone- be it my counsellor, friends or family, HE was always there. And even when he wasnt, the OCD was blocking my ability to communicate effectively with anyone.
Thankfully, over the holiday period, my boyfriend left town to stay with family. And I was taken by my counsellor to the emergency psych services as bruises were discovered.
Coming clean was the toughest thing I have ever done in life, and I second guessed that decision for a good year after.
Although I still struggle with OCD daily,
I look back on this time and see how far I have really come.