My Ongoing Battle With Depression & Anxiety

"I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
- Philippians 4:13

Back in 2004, I started cutting my wrists. I was diagnosed with bipolar depression a few months prior, and this is the way I liked to make myself "feel better." In April of that year, I was sent to the local hospital and put on suicide watch for two days. Those were the most awful two days of my life. That was enough to convince me not to threaten suicide again.

As part of my outpatient therapy, I had to go to group therapy every day after school for a few weeks (along with individual therapy). The kids that were in therapy with me all had different stories. There were kids that were abused physically and sexually, kids with drug addict parents, kids who had gotten into drugs themselves, and the list goes on and on.

The last eight years, I've been on and off several depression medicines as well as mood stabilizers. It seems that when I find a drug that works for me, I get some nasty side effect and need to find another one. Luckily, I've been on the same medicine for over a year now with no issues. Hoping it stays that way.

After going to college in 2008, I started to develop anxiety. At first, I would get physically sick when I had to drive to downtown Indianapolis for school. I came home every weekend, so these drives happened frequently. Throughout the last few years, my anxiety has grown into numerous panic attacks a week.

In February, I got my first tattoo. I was so tired to seeing my scars on my arm every day. I decided to get my favorite verse (Philippians 4:13) over them. I wanted it to be as personal as possible, so I wrote it in my own handwriting.

Last month, I got my second tattoo. When I have panic attacks, it's often hard for me to remember to breathe. I know, I know. It's a natural response, how do you not breathe?!? If you knew how panic attacks were, you'd understand. I got breathe on my other forearm. I left it black, but I'm thinking I'll have them fill it in with red when I go for my next (breast cancer) tattoo.

My depression and anxiety still affect me on a daily basis. Some mornings it's hard to get out of bed. Sometimes I get panic attacks. I'm happy I get to see my husband every day now. He helps comfort me during those tough times. When he's not there? I glance at my tattoos and turn to God.