"I'm Coming Out!"

It's international CLARA HUGHES week! Or at least, it is in my head, LOL. She is riding 12,000km around Canada to raise awareness, funds and to stomp out the stigma once and for all that remains around mental illness. I love Clara Hughes. In a kind of ridiculous, over the top, you shouldn't love anyone like this kinda way on not be in jail. When she competed in the Summer Olympics and won two bronze medals I fell in love. When I saw her don ice skates and win Olympic medals in speed skating, I was in awe. I watched her sportsmanship, how respected she was by her fellow athletes, I giggled at her interviews as her pure joy in life spilled out and infected me. Then I found out she had a secret - she suffers from depression and mental illness. Now let's put this in perspective - Clara Hughes was a golden girl. An athlete. A bastion of perfection and athletic awesomeness. This is how we idolize people in these positions - as perfect. Then consider how brave it was for her to rip off her golden sheen and be open about her experiences with mental illness. She became, for many, a normalization of mental illness. Her straight talk about her challenges made so many people's daily struggles seem important and acceptable. She is changing the face of mental illness once and for all. I was one of those who were a little changed by Clara's confessions. You see, I also suffer from mental illness. And I too, live a wonderful, full, happy life. Most importantly, I, like Clara, am one of the success stories. I live each day to the fullest, no matter what challenges face me. I don't often speak of my mental illness, because I don't believe it defines who I am. I am wrong in this, however. As a survivor, and being who I am, I MUST speak out and be unafraid to be judged. Because if one person hears me and feels that they are okay to be who they are, and most importantly that they can LIVE, then it will have been worth it. Over the course of my life, my illness has manifested itself in many ways. I purged my first meal at age 12, as a way to manage my weight, and gather back a smidge of my self worth. Thus began anorexia, my coping mechanism for the anxiety and depression that sunk me to despair. At the height of my illness I had a BMI of under 14. I never new anything about my behavior was not normal. In fact, it was the first time I got some respect. When this no longer satisfied my anxiety and depression, I took to self harm, through cutting, self mutilation and burns. Then came bulimia. If being empty didn't help, then maybe feeling full would. Then, all of these addictions lay just below the surface waiting to be called up when depression and anxiety struck. Sometimes all three wouldn't work and then what doctors' call "suicidal ideation" became my norm. Suicide attempts occured when desperation set in. Imagine, the girl who had it all, willing to give it all up. That, my friends, is what you call gut wrenching, mind bending, unimaginable pain. The interesting part is, no one would EVER have known anything was out of the ordinary. I was very good at being one person in public, and another inside my head. I didn't know then that the voice inside my head wasn't me at all. I lived in shame and fear that someday, someone would see who I was. 7 years ago, at my hospital intake, I was told I had a serious, chronic, mental disorder, and that left untreated I would likely not survive the coming year. Instead I took the coming year in hospital to do exactly the opposite - to learn how to live. Which is now what I do! I live each day and jump out of bed excited for what it will bring. It is work - hard work - sometimes excruciating work to banish the voice that tells me I am worthless and should stay home, then combats my determination to face the day with panic and fear. But I win. I eat. I smile at myself in the mirror. I do everything I can each day to LIVE. For my friends, my family, and for me. Cause damn it, I'm worth it. Find Your CORE!