Whatever Life Throws At You - A Blog About Hanging In There

4,876 words.. What is up with me these past couple days?
I guess I've been feeling.. Write-y.
SO, I really am not quite sure what I will be doing right now.
I kind of want to write a blog post in the format as those Bullying Stories videos on Youtube.
The only problem is, I haven't been bullied enough to write something meaningful.

However, I've been through quite a bit, and I hope maybe this will help someone.

*A word of caution*
This post is very emotional. It can be depressing. It has a lot of rough information, lots of scary stuff. I'm not saying don't read it. I'm just saying be careful while reading it.
A couple people might find it intense.

Read on!
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Probably a little personal history would be useful.

Let's see...
I'm not quite sure when my depression really kicked in.
I would have to guess somewhere around 7th grade, at least, that's where I remember it most.

I suppose I should talk a little about myself before I get to that point.
As long as I can remember, I went to a private school.
All the way through high school.
For a majority of my life, I was really, really sheltered.
I've mentioned a couple times that I remember things that have really affected me.
In 5th grade, I got called gay. Being sheltered, I had no idea what that meant.
I remember coming home and asking my mom why someone would call me gay.
She was upset, and I knew it was something negative, so I remembered it.
I still replay it in my head. I got called gay in 5th grade, at a private school.
I've been called gay quite a bit since then.

Right now, I could care less if I get called gay. I take it as a compliment.
Gay guys are much cooler than normal guys.
That's my opinion, and I will accept your opinion if it's different than mine.

Hmmmm.
I guess time just kind of skipped that time in my life. It was just so boring.
Not too exciting.
Not really negative, but not fantastic.

As a whole, I used to be an abnormally happy and honest kid.
Extremely happy, all the time.
Anyone who knows me now would probably laugh at the idea of me being happy 24/7.
But that's who I was.

Now, I supposed I might as well start going into the main part of this post.
It might be depressing to some people.
I feel like I have an interesting life story, and perhaps going over it will help some people. It may not, but it's worth a try, right?

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So, 7th grade.
Depression set in.
I don't remember when it was, but I remember how it felt.
I was just.....
Upset. Unhappy. Crying. Sad. Frustrated. Confused.
It was like a wave of negative emotions had flooded in and covered me.

It was unexpected.
I really never saw it coming.
I wish I could remember how I used to feel, when I was a 'normal' kid.
I imagine it would scare me.
But it might be interesting.

Depression.
It hit hard.
I started getting up slower.
I started smiling less.
I started crying more.
My entire being was changed.
I didn't feel like Nolan anymore.
I was someone new, someone different.
I didn't like who I was.
I really didn't.
But I put up with it, because there was nothing I could do to feel better, right?

This is probably the part where I get a little emotional, so bear with me.
I started getting into self-harm in all forms.
Cutting.
Burning.
Scratching.
Branding.

I did so much. More than anyone I know.
I started to work on counting my scars, counting my cuts or burns.
The last I remember, I lost count at 4 to 5000.
I tried to count them all.
I wrote it down to remind myself what I was going through.
I actually counted up to around 4,000.
After that, I gave up. I just stopped counting.

Some of you may not be sure why someone would cut themselves. The idea just simply sounds crazy to most people.
If you've cut, it means you reached that point where you would try something desperately so you could feel better. If you've cut, you remember how it feels. You remember blood dripping.
You know why you would do it. It would make you feel better.
There's a few different reasons that I would cut.

Keep in mind, I didn't heavily research this topic. I figured that spitting out facts and statistics just wouldn't affect people as much as a personal story. I'm pretty sure that's a good choice.

The only really scientific fact that I have is that cutting releases certain endorphines that can give the feeling of a rush. I think part of that is also mental, as giving yourself cuts, giving yourself pain, has a certain feel to it that many people love to feel.

I cut mostly for the satisfaction.
I remember the first time I cut. It was a wonderful feeling.
I had always heard that cutting made you feel better, so I got a boxcutter and left it in my wallet in case I ever wanted to give it a try.
The first time I cut, I was in the bathroom at a school dance.
I was having a really bad night, so i ducked into a stall. I looked at the razor for a long while before I slid it across my arm. It was one of the best feelings I had felt. I felt alive for the first time in a while. So I kept doing it.

I loved feeling pain. I loved giving myself the pain.
It was a rush, it made me feel better. I felt like I deserved the pain. I cut to punish myself.
To remind myself I was worthless. That I was weak. That nobody should loved me. That I deserved to be alone. That the love that people did give me was undeserved.

I cut consistently for about 2-3 years. Daily.
Unless I had a big event that required me to wear short sleeves in front of people.
But even then, I stopped caring. I continued.
I used to hide my cuts.
The only people I constantly hid them from was my parents. I didn't want to disappoint them, so I wore long sleeves all the time.
I stopped caring if people saw them. I didn't flaunt them around, or use them to show off or get attention. I just.. stopped caring.
I figured, it would make people stay away from me, right? It would scare people off and they would stop talking to me.
It worked for a short time.
Then people started drawing closer to me.
That was definitely not what I wanted.
But it happened.

Multiple times, I thought I had stopped. I didn't want to stop, but it was hitting the point where people would start off conversations with asking me why I would do that. People constantly were trying to help me.
I didn't want help.
I loved being miserable. It was who I was.
I tried to stop. I really did.
At first, I stopped to find out if I could. I couldn't. I had literally become addicted to my own pain.
I felt withdrawal symptoms. I got dizzy, my heart beat faster, I broke out in sweat, I couldn't sleep, unless I cut. It has taken a long, long time to get over those.

I thought I had stopped. I thought I had gotten over it.
I had had multiple "changes of heart" where I VOWED never to cut again, to be happy, to smile.
They never worked. No matter who I tried to be, no matter what I did, I couldn't outrun who I was.
Who I had become.
And who I had become was a monster.
I didn't like who I was. I didn't bother trying to change myself.
I was the epitome of learned helplessness.
I was destined to be alone and depressed. Why bother trying to change?
There was no point. I could never change.

I didn't know what to do. I was so confused.
After certain emotional events, my cutting or burning would skyrocket.
I remember one particular incident, after one of my breakups that was particularly bad.
It was somewhere around 10th grade, I believe.
I remember starting to cry at school, but I made it out of the room in time to avoid being seen.
I had to go to the 'bathroom'.
I went into a stall and started crying.
I wanted to cut. I wanted to hurt myself. I wanted to punish myself for losing her. I didn't deserve her, and she was gone. I didn't want to be alone. I needed pain.
I think that might have been one of the deepest time I had cut.

I need to make it clear that I rarely cut to kill myself. There is a definite difference between cutting for suicide, and cutting for pain. That day, I cut myself to feel the pain.
But I cut too deep. I got light-headed. I started bleeding more than I had planned.
The blood wasn't gushing or pouring, but it wasn't clotting. I panicked.
I wrapped toilet paper around my arm, but it bled through.
I put paper towels on it, but it bled through.
I put them both on, pulled my sleeves down, and ducked into the nurse's office after I was sure there was no one in there.
I grabbed a roll of gauze and ran back to the bathroom.
The running made my heart beat faster, and the blood flow increased.
I wrapped the gauze around my arm.
Being a boy scout, I knew which places needed the most blockage, so I covered up the key bleeding points, then wrapped more around the rest of my arm. The bleeding slowed, so I put my sleeves back down and went about the rest of my day normally.

I still feel uncomfortable with my arms when they're not covered.
Another close friend to me had mentioned that they felt exposed when their arms were face up.
I realized I feel the same way.
If you've ever gotten the chance to look at my arms closely, you can see the scars.
The scars start at my left wrist and keep going.
All the way up my arm.
On my shoulders.
Across my chest.
They're everywhere.

If you compare my arms together, my left arm looks slightly discolored because of the scars.
They're visible.
A reminder of my past.

I had a few times where I cut that deep on purpose.
I have an abnormal obsession for blood, bordering on a fetish. Not quite there, but.. Bad.
So, I started making art with the blood. I would cut then spread it around to make designs.
I loved blood.

I was a freak.
I hated who I was.

I've attempted suicide a couple times.
For those of you who don't know, you can't just decide "I'm going to kill myself today."
It requires a very specific mindset.
If you think about it, leaving this planet.
Being gone. It's a big decision.
That's why I maintain that deciding to kill yourself requires more thought than most people assume.
I tried swallowing a bunch of Ibuprofen then washing it down with Niquil.
Didn't work, so I spent the next day throwing up and feeling sick, sore, and upset.

I tried slitting my wrists.
I cut up my arm instead of across it.
For those of you who don't know, cutting up your arm will hit an artery in a way that, if done correctly, will give you 7 quick seconds before you bleed out and lose consciousness. If not checked, the blood flow will flow enough to shut down your heart.
That didn't work.
I passed out, but I woke up, and the blood flow was slow. I was frustrated.

I stayed depressed for a long time.
Hell, I'm still depressed.

But..
Eventually.......
The cutting slowed down.

I still am not sure why, but the cutting gradually slowed down, and I started cutting less.
It took effort not to go back, but it eventually became a rare occurrence.
It was almost gone. I cut maybe once every month.
I wasn't necessarily happy, but I had found other ways to cope.
By my senior year, it was pretty rare.
I still had cuts, I still occasionally cut, but I wasn't addicted.

I was still depressed. Constantly.
I was always unhappy.
Even when I was happy, my level of happy was "not miserable".
I was far from happy.
But I had slowed down on my cutting.

I wasn't fantastic. But I wasn't cutting.
That was the most important thing to me, and my friends.
I was always upset.
I had trouble waking up, trouble caring.
I always joke about how lazy I am, but it became almost comatose.
I didn't bother doing homework or studying for tests.
My eating decreased, and I lost weight faster than normal.
But I could care less.
Things just weren't worth trying to do anymore.
I had no motivation.

I've gone through a couple therapists before I found the one I'm working with now.
My parents eventually found out how I was living, and they decided to try and help a bit, which I wasn't really too fond of, but I put up with it

My first psychologist was a Christian psychologist.
Great guy, but EVERY SINGLE PROBLEM was solved by praying more.
It wasn't what I wanted. He didn't give me things to work on, to think about, or to try.
He simply talked about the glory of God in every sentence, reminding me that EVERYTHING I was going through, Jesus had gone through too.
Needless to say, I stopped seeing him after the second session.

My next therapist was one my sister had seen before, and recommended.
It was a woman who was pretty awesome in every way.
She gave me ideas on what to focus on, she was smart, and she was so kind.
The only problem is, she was a woman. I couldn't relate to her.
She was awesome, but not what I needed.

Now, I have the best psychologist I could ask for.
He's a man that I greatly respect.
He knows when to listen to me, he knows when to give me advice.
He listens to music as much as I do, and we relate.
We both have the same sense of humor, and we laugh about things that normal people don't even think is remotely funny.
We make terrible jokes, and we think it's funny.
He's definitely one of the coolest men I know, aside from my dad.
He helps me.

After seeing him, I can't say I've been as depressed as I used to be, but I still have off-days. I still get depressed.
I still feel like I'm too lazy.
I still hate it when people preach to me.
I hate when I feel happy, because I don't feel I deserve happiness.
My moods are always a grey cloud. They're not happy, but they're sometimes NOT miserable.

I suppose I should go over the other couple events that have affected me recently.

I was a pretty okay guy for a long time.
I felt normal, I felt happy occasionally.
However, after one particularly bad night, I let it slip to one of my best friends that I had cut the week before.

She was not too happy about it, and she let me know that she didn't like it.
We spent a good couple hours talking about it.
Talking at that point involved me crying, and her yelling at me.
We were on Skype.
She hung up on me.
I called her back, and she didn't answer.
Finally, I told her I couldn't handle it anymore.
I was just.. Done.
I wanted to go drive off a cliff.

She began to worry.
We talked more
She threatened to call the police on me.
She was worried for my life.
I didn't care.
But I listened to her threats, and sat down and talked to her.
I remember every second of that night.

We talked, and she recommended what would lead to the most terrifying choice of my life.
She said that Mountaincrest had helped her, and I might think of going there.
For those of you don't know, Mountaincrest is basically mental hospital.
Don't think it's a mental hospital like an asylum, or in the movies.
It's a hospital that has a suicide watch kind of feel to it.
Someday, I might go into details on there, but I'd rather not right now.

The important part is, I went.
I came back.
It gave me a long time to think on what I wanted in this life.
It gave me time to realize what I did to people.
It made me realize that I could change.

One of the biggest things I've been told by someone is "No one changes, Nolan. No one changes."
I beg to differ.
I think one can change if their heart is in it.

I think that's enough personal history.

I intend to switch gears a bit right now.
I have no idea how I want to approach this, but I know the kind of sound that I want it to have.

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People can change.
You can change.

Yes, even you.
You with the cuts and scars on your wrists.
You, crying because someone else can understand how you feel.
You, one who's tried to end it all.
You, who knows that life is harder than most people think.
You, who puts in all your effort to just smile.
You, who can understand how hard it is to hide your pain.

You can change.

One of my dearest friends on this earth has helped me realize some things about myself.
For a majority of my life, I've been passive.
I've let people walk all over me, particularly girls.
I hate hurting people, so if I want to yell at someone, I'll hold it in.
I hate admitting I've been hurt. I'll smile and act happy, even if they've torn me in two.
This friend...
She made me realize that I can be strong.
I can stand up for myself.
I can argue my point.
I can stick up for my side.

It's something I never understood.
But I'm learning.
I'm slowly, very very slowly, becoming stronger.

One of the biggest things I've learned in the past 4 or 5 months is that...
You can make yourself happy.


Now, before you shut me down right there, I beg you to hear me out.
In case you haven't realized it, I have multiple emotional and mental issues.
Quite a few actually.
A regular cocktail of strange afflictions.

But I can still make myself smile.
It's one of the hardest things I've ever thought about.
If you think, "Oh he doesn't know what it's like to be depressed. He can't possibly understand how depressed I am.", listen to me.

I can't claim that we have the same circumstances.
I understand that there are people out there who's lives make my life look like a piece of cake.
I understand that there are people who have it worse off than me.
But I can guarantee, I've been down.
Very down.
I've reached the point where I would rather be gone and leave all I love behind, just so I wouldn't have to put up with the pain.
I've been there.

Don't think I'm claiming this shit is easy. I know it's not. It feels impossible most times.
It really does.
You just don't want to even bother pulling yourself out of depression.
It just doesn't seem worth it. Why be happy if you're just going to be depressed again?

I've been there. I've sat in the audience and listened to a man jump around, excited by life, and claim that you can make yourself by looking at the positives.
I know what it's like to act happier so people won't be angry.
What it's like to put on a smile so your friends can feel like they've helped you, but you still feel empty.
Believe me. I know what it's like.

I know that this isn't easy. It's taken me around 5 years to even start to realize that I can be happy.
I'm not claiming you can fix everything over night.
But I do claim that you can work at it.
And you can DO IT.
I have NO DOUBT in my mind that YOU can be happy.

But...
You have to want it.
That's the hardest thing I've come to realize. You can't just sit passively and expect happiness to come to you.
Life doesn't work that way. You can't become a completely new person over night.
Or in a month.
Even in a year.
I'm still working on just being happy.
It's rough, but I know I can do it.

You have to want it.
You have to devote your strength to becoming happy again.
You have to devote time.
You have to put your entire being into the effort.

You will get tired.
You will get down.
You will give up.
You will ask yourself if it's worth it.

It's worth it.
It is.
I'm not just saying that.. It's true.
I can not emphasize enough that I know what it's like to be at rock bottom.

BUT YOU CAN DO IT.
WANT IT.
IF YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY,
YOU CAN DO IT.


If I can do it.. Someone weak, someone empty.
You can do it.
I can't say that enough times.
You can do it.

You have to find something worth it.
Something or someone to look at and focus on when you get tired.
I have a few different things.

The biggest promise on this earth I've made was to that friend who recommended Mountaincrest.
The first night there, I called her from the lobby. We talked about how I was doing, what I thought, and everything about my first day there
.
She said she was proud of me.
I'll never forget this conversation.

There was a moment where she was quiet, and she whispered into the phone..
"Will you promise me something?"
"Of course I will. What is it?"
"Never hurt yourself again."
"....."

I took her next comment as a challenge..
"You're so quiet.. You know it's a hard decision. You don't want to promise it."
"Of course I'll make that promise. I swear I will never hurt myself again."

That was the hardest promise I've ever made to someone.
And I don't regret it.
There are times when I miss cutting..
I really feel like it would help.
But I think back to that phone call, to the emotion in her voice, to the happiness I could hear when she said she was proud of me.

That's what I focus on when I get tired.
I think, "If she saw a cut on my arm, how would she respond? Would I be able to watch her cry?"

When I want to give up, I remember that promise.

What will you focus on?
What makes you want to go on?
What's your reason for living?
What can you think of when you want to give up?
Everyone can find something.
I promise you that.
It may take months to find something.. But I swear to you.
If you find one..
If you want it.
If you WANT to be happy.
If you WANT to get out of this pain.
You have the means and the materials.
You just need the heart.

You need the motivation.

That's my pep talk..
I hope it helped someone.
I hope it made someone cry.
I hope it made someone realize that they can change.
I hope it showed someone they're not alone in this.

I hope that, if you know someone going through this type of thing, that you better know how they feel.
I hope you are able to support your friends in a new way.
Even if you don't feel this way, I hope you can better understand what people are going through..
So hopefully you can better help those who go through this every day.

I don't want to just give a pep talk..
I'm going to give something for you to actually work on.
It's the cognitive-behavioral approach to all this.
That's fancy talk for,
I'm going to give you something to look for, something to work on.


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So I suppose my first piece of advice would be, look for a therapist that fits you.
Everyone doesn't like the idea of a therapist.
It has a negative connotation. It makes you feel helpless enough that someone else should tell you how to be happy.
It's frustrating.
But if you take your time and look for one... It can help a lot.
It may take a few tries.
It may take months.
But...
They know what they're doing.
I promise you that.
If you find someone who you can relate to, someone you can talk to, I promise you it will be worth your time.

Look into medication.
I didn't like this one.
I really didn't. I didn't want to take "happy pills" to put up with life.
But it was worth it.

Psychiatrists know what to do.
If you follow their advice, if you tell them HONESTLY how you feel, they can give you the right stuff.
I'm on a couple medications, and they help me stabilize my mood, along with other things.
Maybe do some research on that.
I definitely would recommend it.

Find your true friends.
This is a huge one.
I'm not saying put all your friends through a test to find out if they're worthy to be around you.

I'm saying, look at the people you know, look at the people you hang out with.

Who can you tell things to that won't judge you?
Who can you call at midnight, sobbing your eyes out, and they'll answer?
Who can you call drunk and have them pick you up?
Who can you call who will drive 15 miles at midnight, just to drive around and talk with you?
Who can you call to claim their couch for the night, no questions asked?

If you find supportive people, life will be less terrifying.
Life will be easier if you have people to turn to when it gets bad.

What helps you relax? What makes you happy? What can you do to distract yourself?
This is also really important.
Look for something positive that can make you happy.
Or look for something that doesn't make you sad.

I use video games and music.
I also use guy friends.
That sounds weird, but I mean....
Find people you can hang out with that WON'T judge you.
People you can be around when you don't want to talk about your feelings.

Video games help so much.
It gives me something to focus on, something to distract myself with.
Same with music.

Find stuff like that.

Avoid stuff that makes you unhappy or upset.
THIS one is hard for me.
I'm a glutton for punishment.
I don't care if something hurts me. If I care about something, I'll stay with it, even if it hurts me.
That's something I'm working on.

Start small.
If a song gives you bad memories, don't listen to that song.


If someone you hang out with makes you have flashbacks of being with them in a relationship, don't hang out with them.

If merely seeing someone's facebook page makes you upset, unsubscribe from them. Don't visit their page every day.

Start small like that.
Eventually work up to avoiding behaviors that make you upset.
Avoiding areas of your life that make you upset.
If someone constantly venting to you makes you upset, ask them to tone it down a little.

(I've reached the point where people venting to me actually helps by making me feel useful. It's hard to do, and it takes time, but it's something I love doing).

Find motivation.
Even for simple things.
Reward yourself by a meal out or something.
Work hard.
Find reasons to get up.

Hang out with people.
Play video games.
Watch tv.

Work out. Do something physical. 
It's been scientifically and psychologically proven that physical activity can help someone feel better.
Working out helps.
Boxing.
Swimming.
Running.
Biking.
Dancing.

Any of those can help.
Do something like that.
It's hard to get motivation to work out, but if you do, it'll help.
You'll get in shape and you'll feel happier.

Sleep.
Again, a big one.
Don't sleep constantly. I do that.
But get more sleep.

I know I sound like a teacher, but 7 hours of sleep per day can help you.
Give it a try.

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I think that's all I really have to say about all that.

I might have more, but I'm not sure right now.

Yeah..

I hope this blog was useful to someone.

HANG IN THERE.
YOU CAN DO THIS.


IF YOU WANT IT, YOU CAN MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY.


YOU CAN DO THIS.
You can DO EEEEET!
ALL NIGHT LONNGGGGG!




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Yup..
I'm done now.

Good luck, I love you all.

Don't forget, hit the tiny little share button under the post.
Facebook or Tumblr or whatever you kids use these days.
It takes a couple clicks, but I want a bigger audience for this blog.

SO yeah.

Have a good day everybody (:

-Nolan

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I absolutely LOVE the To Write Love On Her Arms movement.
I've done it for a few people.
I've also had people write love on my arms.
One day, I had around 6 people walk up and write love on my arms.
It's touching. 
I support this wholeheartedly. 



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Top Five Songs of the Day

1. She's Falling Apart by Lisa Loeb
2. Over And Out by Alkaline Trio
3. My Immortal by Evanescence
4. Adam's Song by Blink-182
5. It's Been A While by Staind

Song Lyric of the Day

~I never conquered, when you came
Sixteen just held such better days
Days when I still felt alive
We couldn't wait to get outside
The world was wide, too late to try
The tour was over, we'd survived
I couldn't wait till I got home
To pass the time in my room alone~


-Adam's Song by Blink-182

Video Game of the Day

GRID

Youtube Video(s) of the Day

Picture(s) of the Day

giggle

ROFL