Scared of my emotions

I’m scared to look for help even though I think I need it.

When I was in Middle school my brother tried to commit suicide and it terrified me. I was crying for three days because I was scared I would never get him back. Then when he was done with his treatment and came back home I was scared of somehow messing him up. For a year after the event I was trying the adjust to a new normal. I thought things were better and that all of us were coping well, until Mother’s Day came.

My dad called my brother and I so we didn’t forget. Somehow we had and we both raced to wish our mom a happy Mother’s day, but she didn’t want it. She said she didn’t deserve it because if she had been a good mother my brother wouldn’t have tried to kill himself. The three of us were crying as my brother and I tried to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Something in me broke that day watching her cry about how she wasn’t a good enough mother.

Stupid little Middle school me swore I would never hurt her like that so long as I lived. Throughout Middle school and High school I tried my hardest never to do or say anything that could hurt her, but it didn’t stop my thoughts. My will not to hurt my mom didn’t stop me from hating myself, it didn’t stop me from crying myself to sleep, it didn’t stop the morbid game I played in my head about whether or not someone would grieve for me when I’m gone. My will to never to hurt my mom never shut up that ugly voice that constantly told me I wasn’t enough, that I was stupid, that I was weak, that I was ugly, that I was forgettable, and that the world was would be perfectly fine without me in it. I comforted myself with the mantra that I could never hurt myself, I’m too scared of pain, I’m too of death to ever perform any type of self harm. I’m a teenager filled with hormones and angst. It is as simple as that.

I told myself that I’m not depressed. Depression is when you can’t feel happy, when you can’t get out of bed, when you sleep/eat too little or too much. Okay maybe my sleep is a little off but I’m in college now, who really sleeps well in college? Maybe people have made fun of or been concerned with my eating habits most of my life but I’m just a lite eater always have been always will be. Maybe I have bad days but everyone has bad days. I’M NOT DEPRESSED!!! My mind would scream. I can’t be depressed my pride would practically whimper. Depression is when life takes a back seat and I can still smile for my family so I am obviously not depressed. That was my magic spell that got me up and through the day. I still enjoy life and my family yes I get over whelmed sometimes but I’m fine. I’m fine.

My eating gave in first. I had always had issues with my stomach since Elementary school but suddenly it had gotten worse. I was in pain everyday and nothing seemed to work for long. I finally saw a specialist and had several tests done. Standing in that office and seeing my weight I wanted to cry I was 94lbs. My freshman year of High school I had been happy I broke 100lbs for the first time, by the time I graduated I was 115lbs of healthy weight and muscle. How had I lost so much weight in so little time? How had I not realized my clothes were so loose on me? Pants I hadn’t worn since Middle school were baggy on me. Where was my energy? When had I stopped exercising? When had I lost the will to try? Was it when I was laying on the floor trying to breath through the gut wrenching pain I was in? Was it when I was reassuring my classmates that I was fine skipping breakfast and lunch I wasn’t hungry anyway? Was it when I was telling my parents I was fine even through I swore smelling food made my stomach cramp? I was scared of myself standing in that office, because if I hadn’t realized was sick what else had I over looked?

Sleep was next. When class was in session I had a schedule to keep. I could get just enough sleep to function and sometimes I would stay in bed as long as possible because my body was tired even if my brain wasn’t. Then the first night hit were I didn’t see until the sun came back up. I was lucky that there were no classes that day. But when the semester let out my sleep took a turn for the worse. I either slept 4h or 14h there was no in between. And covid forget it I’m up at 2 almost 3 am writing this and I can’t even think of sleep.

My cousin has a son and she asks us to watch him every now and then. He isn’t even two yet and when he is here I know I have to be enough for him, but I don’t feel like it. My mom thanks me for all that I do helping her take care of him. Saying things about how I’m so good with him and how she couldn’t take care of him without all the extra help I give her, but I still don’t feel like I’m enough. I go to bed crying because I’m not enough. I don’t even know what I’m not enough of I just know I’m not it.

I’m scared I am depressed because my life has taken a back seat to those awful thoughts once or twice. But I’m more scared that when I try to voice these thoughts to my mom, to my dad, to the counselors at school, hell even a hotline I suddenly go mute. Even this right here this site I have been looking at it for a week straight and it is this night when I’m pretty sure I bombed my midterm and I wanted to cry myself to sleep that is when I finally break and type something up. Because I still can’t talk about it. I can’t say a word when I want to ask for someone anyone to tell me I’m not depressed. And I definitely can’t say that I think I might be depressed and I think I need to talk to a professional.

It all comes back to that Mother’s Day swearing I’ll never hurt mom like that. How do I say it’s not your fault mama I’m sick and it has nothing to do with you? How do I say I think I need help when I know she is going to blame herself? I promised myself I would never do this to her! That I would never make her feel like a bad mother! I’m still on their Insurance any attempt to make an appointment with a professional they would know about. I’m scared trying to get myself better would set her over the edge.