Inner Peace

   Peace, this picture I made represents a turning point in my depression and suicide attempts while in the hospital. When I was first admitted to the hospital, I was very angry and upset. I feel I did not need to be in the hospital even though I had attempted suicide in front of my whole family by drinking hydrogen peroxide and hanging myself with any cords I could. I decided to attend a group therapy called expressive therapy on Tuesday. I was hesitant to participate but the therapists stated you get out of it what you put in. 

    I took that in mind and participated in the activity. The therapist wanted us to make a picture of something that represented us and our journey to the hospital. The only rules for this project was that we could not use scissors and only use construction paper. When she had mentioned this, I was stuck. I did not know what to make or represent me. The reason I was there was because of my suicide attempts and my major depression due to having a falling out with Conor. The happiest I've ever been was the day I met Conor and when we fell out that happiness went away. To me, he represented acceptance and safety which I haven't felt before him. 

    Because of this, I started thinking what am I missing in my life. I started cutting and ripping pieces of construction paper in pieces of the pride flag. Then it hit me, I had put all the pieces in a circle. A image of a peace sign popped up into my mind. I put the different colors of construction paper into a peace sign and it all fit perfectly, 

    When I finished, I realized I needed to find inner peace and acceptance of who I am and accept what had happened to me in the past. Everything was making sense, I had recently came out as nonbinary because I always felt that being gay did not sit right with me. I began to question it when I met Conor because I always felt more feminine at times. Meeting Conor I began to know things about myself.

    I needed to come to terms with my sexually and accept what happened to me in my past traumas. Accept it but no loner let it control my life as it has since I was 18. When I realized this, I began to cry because I finally was accepting the reason I was in the hospital and that I needed help. This was a wake up call and I needed to use this opportunity in the hospital to get better, Conor was a motivating factor, I had hurt him and I needed to work on myself to prove to him things will be different. I no longer wanted my depression to be an excuse to ruin our friendship. I was now more determined to work on myself and get Conor back.





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