Hi, I’m Ashley and I’m a Human Being- By TIMB Alum, Ashley Elizabeth
Content Warning- Self- Harm
If you or someone you know needs help, please call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, text Brave to 741-741, or call 911.
On March 3, 2018, I held a blade in my hand as I lay in a freshly-drawn warm bath. It’s a clear, yet gritty, picture to paint. I’d seen it in a number of movies; I don’t know anyone who hasn’t. I was going to take my life.
At that point, I was not unfamiliar with “cutting”. In the few months prior, I could never have imagined that I would be able to take a sharp object to my skin, let alone draw blood. And now, only months after my first experience with cutting, I was at a place where the blade no longer hurt, and the blood flowing was a release. See, cutting was my punishment. I wasn’t good enough for this world… so I thought. I won’t tell you what went on in my head that changed my mind, but I will tell you this, it was a close call… but I was the one who made the call to save my own life.
After that, life turned into this whirlwind. My family had decided to finally step in, and everything became “Operation Fix Ashley”. My life went from a toxic hell to an organized hell. The only real solace I had was video messaging a friend at night. Whenever I called, he’d holler a friendly, “Hey sis!” in such a way that I couldn’t help but smile. He became my brother and a touchstone for me. He never pushed for my time and always understood if I wasn’t up for talking. He knew I cut, and when he asked me not to, I said I’d try not to. It was unusual for him to pressure me in anyway, but with this, he didn’t let go. Finally, just to get him to let off, I said, “Okay, fine! If I cut, I’ll tell you, okay?”
For some reason, this worked. I wouldn’t promise that I’d stop, because I knew I could and probably would break it. Then, it happened. I hit a new low, and I returned to the best relief I could get. As per usual, my emotions seemed to be reigned in again. Then, it hit me. I’d have to tell my brother. Since I had just cut, the reality hit me head on. With my brain in control, I knew I had just hurt someone who truly loved me without any stipulations. Fast forward to a few months ago, I was only cutting intermittently, but I still saw it as an option. Though, with my brother’s help, it had decreased a great deal.
Most of what I knew about cutting came from the media. No one I new cut, and if they did, they mentioned in during deep conversations and said they’d never do it again. I’d never had anyone talk about it the way I felt about it. I cut to relieve pressure. I cut because it was my own way of punishing myself. No one saw it, no one was talking about it, and all the while I could walk through my days continuing to feel the pain. I knew it wasn’t a healthy thing to do, but as all addicts will do, I rationalized the behavior. Did you catch that word? Addict. I had started to attend a recovery group called FAVOR to help with my addictive behavior. It was there that I realized my cutting was another bandaid I was using on my mental health. With the recovery group, I gained a whole group of people who were committed to putting a halt to their own addictive behaviors. It was there that I learned that addictive behavior was what I had been using to cope with the mental health issues that weren’t being addressed appropriately.
As a mental health advocate, the idea that I was an addict blew my mind. I started to study my life, looking for the lowest of the lows. To my surprise, with or without medications, my lows were always accompanied by some type of addictive behavior: drinking, overworking, cutting… the list goes on. This surprise brought me back to more recovery meetings. In these meetings, I share my successes and my failures. I share my mental health issues that drive my behavior. I even talk about cutting. I hav not cut in over thirty days. For me, that is a big deal. I shared this with the anonymous and random assortment of folks in my recovery group. I got a scattered round of applause, but after the meeting, I had six messages thanking me for opening up. They were messages thanking me for giving them a voice. My path to a cure started with one man who became my brother. It grew to a group of people who became my family. Now, when I want to cut, I phone a friend. These people get me. They know it’s not about attention. I have people to reach out to because I reached out first. Whenever I share in my groups, I start with this: “Hi, I’m Ashley, and I’m a human being.” I found recovery meetings because I looked for them, and I showed up. That’s what I do now, I show up. I bring my best and worst… I bring my “human” and that’s what counts.
Ashley Elizabeth is a jack of all trades freelance writer. When she not writing, she is known to be found taking on new projects varying from woodworking to card making. She started advocating for her own mental health over ten years ago and, as a writer, she willingly opens up her life so that she might be a voice for others. She survives with the love her son, friends, and family… and, of course, music.
