When I was first released from the hospital following a suicide attempt, I had a lot of questions about what my life would look like from that point on. 

The team of doctors I had while I was inpatient was adamant that I not return to school for the spring semester, which, as one could imagine, made a significant dent in my plans for the next several months. I was given a plan for the next two weeks involving 6 hours of therapy a day, but from that point on, I was on my own.

That’s really what it felt like with a lot of aspects of my life: I was on my own. This is for a multitude of reasons, but the main one is that nobody really knew how to help me. My triggers puzzle even trained professionals, and my depression is what’s classified as “treatment-resistant” at this point.

The bigger issue, though, is that nobody in my support network knew how to help me. I could see them all trying, but what I have isn’t the kind of thing that people can easily comprehend yet. I’m sure that understanding will come at some point in the development of society, but for now we are at large devoid of comprehension on mental health struggles. This isn’t anyone’s fault, but it is a struggle for everyone involved.

This meant that there were a lot of well-meaning efforts that fell short, but just as many that stuck and were helpful, even though I wasn’t always able to express just how helpful they were. 

This brings me to another issue: I don’t even know what I need half the time, so how am I meant to explain it to others? People in my support group tell me that my network and I are working through it together and will figure out what we all need as we go through it, but I can’t say that isn’t frustrating. I wish life could easily be solved by a short inspirational sentence like that, but the reality is that it can’t. Or at least not to the extent that people want it to be.

As I spent more time out of the hospital, I began to realize that I was not in fact alone. This is due to the fact that, presumably at the recommendation of my care team, I was rarely physically left alone. I visited friends and ran errands, and I found my saving grace in my mother and my family as they made sure I was always supported.

At times this was irritating, because I felt like I was still in the hospital to an extent, constantly under surveillance. I began to realize, though, that it wasn’t about surveilling me. It was about love.

Love is something I’ve struggled with over the years. I’m guarded and hate to let my walls down for fear of being hurt. But here’s the thing. I hate to be sappy, but it really does take almost never seeing someone again to really appreciate them. 

In the weeks leading up to my hospitalization, I tried to use love as a method to keep myself going. I reminded myself that I was going to have to say goodbye to the people I for whom I cared most or leave them with questions and unfinished business, so to speak. I wrote long messages and didn’t send them for fear of rejection, and I found myself grasping at straws to find love in my life when I was so lost and missing love for myself. I was also so focused on being in love and striving for that aspect that I couldn’t bring myself to even try for other forms of love, as they felt like a daunting mountain I couldn’t even begin to climb at that point in my life (when even taking a shower was daunting a lot of the time).

When I got out of the hospital, however, I noticed people being kind to me - kinder than I remembered them being before. Or maybe they were just paying more attention to me, just as I was paying more attention to them. For those first few days following my discharge, I lived in fear that people would be angry with me for trying to leave.

That wasn’t what I found, though. I found true, unconditional love and caring from so, so many people. I found a family who was terrified that they’d almost lost me and wanted to do whatever they could to keep me safe. I found mistakes made along the way, but kind hearts and kind intentions. And most of all, I found worry. Everyone was worried about how I was doing and what would happen to me next, and sometimes that worry and that love spilled out in ways I wasn’t prepared to handle, but I know it wasn’t malicious.

I was inspired to write this piece today because of some responses I’ve received since this site went public. I’ve been told over and over again how brave I am and how much love people feel for me, and I’m really feeling that love right now. 

In all honesty, this hasn’t been my best day. I’ve had a rough weekend with my mental health, and I’ve cried a couple today as well. On days like this, I do struggle to remember that I am loved. But one thing that’s improved is the fact that I’m able to let the love I feel for others shine through.

I love so, so many people very much, and that feels beautiful and more genuine than just about anything else I can think of. It’s frightening for me to put out on the internet, because I still have that feeling that letting my guard down will lead to me being hurt. In some cases, it doesn’t, though. It leads to finding caring and wonderful people in the most unexpected of places, and it leads to realizing that my support network is so much wider than I could have imagined. 

Depression will tell me that I don’t deserve love and that nobody could possibly love me, but I only have to look around to know that isn’t true. From my brother sharing a joke with me when I’m crying to being told I’m appreciated as a friend to the simple act of a vegetarian option being made for me at a family dinner, there is love in my life. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Every day in my group, they ask me what I’m proud of for the day and what I’m grateful for. Answers range from getting out of bed to being alive to very specific actions. Right now, though, I’m grateful for love. I’m grateful for all of you. I’m grateful to know that I care about people and am capable of feeling such a deep emotion as the love I feel for my friends and family. If you’re struggling to find love in your life, just know that it’s there. Even if it’s inside yourself, it’s there. I truly believe that. I hope you can find it, because it has been genuinely life changing for me.