In 2008 I suffered a head injury, when a security light fell off the side of a building in high winds, swung on its cord, and hit me in the face. Medically speaking, it was a minor head injury (I was lucky – it hit me on the strongest part of my face). Psychologically speaking, it sparked the beginning of a long journey to recovery.
21, United States.
In some ways, I am a failure.
When I was twenty-one and in college, I had no friends.
I had no friends because I attempted suicide, and that, too, I failed at. I’ve failed to kill myself on more occasions than I can count, and ended up in the hospital twice, where the doctors failed to diagnose me properly.
Beep… beep… beep…The heart monitor was too slow. I stared out the window at the sunny brick wall, my only indication of the weather in the world outside that proceeded on without me. I sat upright in the thin sheets of my bed with the plastic covering underneath. The nurse came in with my tray of food, closing the door and the curtains surrounding it as she left. How had I gotten here?
Celui, 21, US.
It started out as just nightmares. Someone I had once created, torturing me physically and psychologically, every night for weeks. I stopped sleeping, thinking that if I stayed awake, he couldn’t get me.
Daisy, 21, UK.
My eating disorder was like the most passionate and destructive love affair of my life. Just like an unhealthy relationship, when I was in control I felt alive, indestructible, like someone had poured petrol on my soul and set me ablaze.