Through My Eyes

By Lisa B

"Through My Eyes" is a deeply personal, raw, and vulnerable book that shares depression's ruthless impact and how to find light amidst profound darkness. Author Lisa B shares her story in hopes that it will uplift, motivate, and inspire you to discover the strength you need to take your life back from mental illness and its painful grasp.

For Lisa B, writing this book was a challenge. It required her to explore pain, struggle, and plenty of demons. Depression brought forth many horrific experiences, but she managed to make it to the other side… stronger. So many people struggle, and sometimes the most difficult feeling is isolation. But remember, you are never alone. There are so many people who are also struggling. There is always hope, and there is always light. Find your light through this book and Lisa B's story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667830100

Lisa B

Lisa was born and raised in North Norfolk in the UK, where she grew up with her two older siblings and parents. At the age of 24, she decided to travel around Australia, where Sydney soon became her new home. She has grown her love for writing over the past six years and amongst other things, she is a qualified nutritionist and a proud mum to her three children.

Book preview

Introduction

"There are wounds that never

show on the body, that are deeper and

more hurtful than anything that bleeds."

Sleep is always the first sign. Sleep becomes difficult, impossible. If I do manage to fall asleep, I always wake up at odd hours, thinking about random things that are not very important. I eventually spend my days tired. I become short with my children, and at times I am unpleasant to be around. It is hard to live with a constant need to rest. However, rest is not an option, at least not for me. Rest is the first thing it takes from me. It will not allow me to sleep. It knows that If I rest, I can be strong, I can be smart, and that I am skilled enough to beat it. Tired, I am easy to take, easy to control. Taking my sleep is its way of taking me, of making me vulnerable, of slowly changing my thoughts. Not sleeping is its way in, its one up, it uses my exhaustion to take me.

In my exhausted state, it has come very close to convincing me that it has always been right. It shows me that I am worthless, useless, and everyone (especially my children), would be better off without me. It validates the horrible things my mother made me believe growing up. It uses my inability to sleep to make me into whatever it wants me to be. Something so many take for granted... sleep. Something that is so easy for so many. Sleep is used as a tool to destroy my clear mind, to start to darken my beautiful blue sky. Sleep is and always has been, for as long as I can remember, my most challenging obstacle. It was then, and I know that it will continue to be forever. This is how it starts, and once it starts, I must fight and win, or I will wither away and cease to exist.

Why am I sharing my secrets, my darkest memories, and opening long healed wounds to share with strangers? Some of whom I am sure will not understand, and others that I am sure will judge me? Why have I decided that now is the time to let my past, and my issues, which I have consciously hidden for my whole life, become public information? Why now? Why ever? Why have I made myself vulnerable to others? Why have I shared my most horrific and embarrassing moments? Why, is a good question, and I feel that I need to share the why with you before you start reading about my journey. The why is the most important part... and the why, is something I want you to keep in mind as you learn about the real me... the me that has been hidden and disguised for many, many years. The why is what will help you to become a soldier for those in need. You may even become the little pull that will rescue those that are standing on the edge. Standing with tears streaming down their face, not seeing any other option. Praying as hard as they can for something or someone to pull them back, to push them away from the edge, to help them continue living in their sad shitty world. Or, maybe, you will just finally really be able to show support, to show them that they do indeed have the strength to rise up and crush their enemy.

How can you understand depression if you have never experienced it? I realize that it is a very hard concept to grasp. Who really knows how it feels to have no control over your feelings or thoughts? To actually be aware of what you are thinking is 100 percent incorrect, but believe it anyway? And not just believe it, but live it? During my struggles with mental illness, I unfortunately realized that not many people can relate to me. There are many that can not, and will never understand. It is very complicated for some to grasp such an abstract concept. Because of ignorance or the lack of really wanting to understand, there are also many that will classify me as crazy, and I am sure even more that will look at me as less than, (especially less than I was before they knew my secrets). There are so many unsympathetic individuals. Those that feel they are somehow better than you, since they have it all together. No one knows what happened to you in your lifetime. No one can possibly understand how you just can’t live anymore. No one can read your mind, or even know what you did 5 minutes ago… This is the problem, and this is something that, in my own little way, I need to at least try to fix. And if not fix, draw awareness to what we, the mentally ill, the specials feel, struggle with, and experience on almost a daily basis.

I became an educator by chance. I did not follow my dreams or passions. I fell into the profession with no desire or drive to educate. It was a job that I could do, and for whatever reason, I was very good at it. Even with all of my crazy bullshit trauma, I somehow became a star, I was looked up to in my profession. Even though my heart was never fully into teaching, I taught hundreds of children basic concepts. I taught life skills that they will have forever. For whatever reason, I have always known that education is the key to making the world a better place. Uneducated people are racist, biased, and unwilling to see any other way but their own. Uneducated people follow, they do not lead (and they never will). These people base their thoughts and opinions on those of others, of whomever they look up to. They get their information from the wrong places, and tend to harshly judge things that they either fear, or do not understand. Uneducated people look at others that are suffering with no compassion. These people often feel that they are always right, and have little or very few flaws.

Now on the other hand, there are a lot of uneducated people that want to know, to learn, to understand... These are the people that, I feel, if educated, if properly explained to, could impact someone in a very positive way. These are the people that I have written down all of my secrets for. These people who had no idea, will now know. And these people will be the ones that save us, that save those of us that struggle, those of us that can't find their way out of the darkness. They will help free those of us who feel that we are totally, one hundred percent, alone. Now, the uneducated will know! They will be educated. They will support, try to understand, and even hold our hands, instead of standing in our way. They will now have insight, and understanding. These are the people that will save someone's life, because now they will finally know. They will know what to look for, learn compassion, and even if they do not, or can not really relate, they will have enough information that they will be able to help and support whomever it is that needs supporting. Because now, they will be educated, and they will know, and they will finally be able to not only understand, but to also help. And hopefully, these compassionate brave souls, the ones who had no idea, will finally be able to live in our shoes, even for a second. They will know the struggle and the constant fight. I have decided to reveal my well hidden secrets so that the uneducated, those that are curious, that are willing to be educated, can help.

I wrote my story to teach, to show, and to explain a bit of what happens on our side of the coin. I wrote this story hoping that I can help others to be a bit more compassion. To truly help others see that depression is not someone having a bad day. Depression is like cancer. If you live through cancer, you must always watch that it does not come back. My illness, as it is with most mental illnesses, is the same. You always watch, fight, know that at any moment you could lose the battle. You are constantly on alert and it is often exhausting to be in an endless battle with your mind.

I know for a fact that I am not the only person who struggles with feeling like I was a mistake, or that things would be better for everyone if I was not here. I know that depression is something that happens to even the most refined wealthy people, even the people who have it all. I am not the only special, however, I am one that has decided to take off my armor and let the normal people see me. Depression is not selective, and it is not biased. It feeds on the mind, and it does not care who you are, how much money you have, or where you came from.

I have decided to share my very personal, sometimes insanely difficult to write story, because I truly feel that it will help give people that don’t suffer, or have never suffered, a better perspective. First you must be very clear on the fact that depression is not sadness. And when you are sad, you are not necessarily depressed. These two very different concepts are often misinterpreted. The phrase I am so depressed, is used too casually, mostly by people that do not understand what being depressed truly is. Also you should be very aware of the fact that this disease is easy to hide. It is easy to learn to smile when you are supposed to, laugh when everyone else laughs. With practice, you can even be outstanding in your profession, (just like me). You can become someone that people respect, admire, and even look up to. You can disguise your disease, if you learn how to do it. Most learn. Most can hide their struggle, put it away for a short period of time. They can disguise their illness so well that no one would even suspect that they are struggling. Once you learn to hide the fact that you are suffering, that you hate yourself, that you are alone, it becomes dangerous. Not only do you have something in your head telling you how shitty and pathetic you are, you have hidden it so well that no one would ever guess that on the inside you are hurting, struggling, sad, maybe even dying. Everyone thinks you are fine, amazing, perfect, lucky…

This is why I am telling my very horrible story... to show you that even someone like me... someone you would see out of the corner of your eye, walking tall and confidently, down a trendy New York street, or maybe in a Milan Boutique, shopping for something extraordinary. Or maybe you would see me sitting at a bar in one of the newest hot spots that is impossible to get into. Out of the corner of your eye you see someone wearing the best clothes, who travels to the most exotic destinations in the world. You see a woman who is invited and photographed at the most exclusive parties, (and is often featured in the most popular magazines), has a past that is not normal. If you saw me on the street, you would never imagine what I suffered through in my life. So many suffer, and often a lot worse than I did, and no one knows. So many are abused, abandoned, or beaten, and hide it flawlessly. Simply because they do not want to be looked at as a victim, or not normal. Trauma is taboo, and now I have decided to take a big scary step to change that.

As someone who can probably justify being depressed, or special, there are countless others that can not. There are so many that suffer simply because this demon chose them. Like I said, depression is very hard to explain. It is almost impossible to describe to the extent you feel it. Telling someone who is depressed that they have it all, or they should just be happy, feeds the monster. These words, why can't you just be happy? You have the perfect life, you have everything, help the illness grow, and show you how truly horrible you are. These words show you how your demon has been correct the whole time.

Chapter 1

"Sometimes the worst

place you can be is

in your own head."

If you are depressed, you are always alone, even in a room full of people that love and adore you. You are different, and you know that no one could possibly understand the thoughts in your head... there are times that even you can't understand why you feel the way you do. Logically, you know that you have no reason to feel the way you are feeling... but logic is fleeting, and only shows its face in your strongest moments. You desperately want to be understood. You want people to see you. But they don’t, they can't, and they never will. People see only what you chose for them to see. They see the smart, beautiful, strong person who no one could ever break, because that is what you decided to be, what you decided to show. Normal people have a very hard time seeing, and understanding the specials. Normal people look down on us, they flee from us, they do not want to have anything to do with someone who has problems.

I have suffered with anxiety and depression my whole entire life. I have spoken to countless psychologists, and have been on more medication than I can name. I thought that I had it all figured out. I thought that I conquered this disease by being strong. I was a warrior. I had beat it, I was invincible... Then, one day, just like that, I wasn't. One day, one normal day, it happened that I turned my head to look to the side, and there I was. Suddenly I was standing alone, in the dark forest, the only place that scares me. Even now, to this day as an adult, I am very frightened to be in this place. No matter how many times I turned, or how many different directions I looked in, I could not see the light. I was lost, lost in a place where I promised myself I would never be again. This sad horrible place that I had struggled for so long to never go back to. Thinking I was cured, or that I was ok, was me fooling myself into believing that depression is something you can get rid of... or make disappear.

Now I have humbly and sadly learned that there is no way to completely be cured. I tell you my whole story because I need you to know that there are many people out there like me. There are so many that suffer more than you can imagine. There are so many that are alone, with no support system to help them find the light... and so many that let the depression take them, simply because they can not fight anymore. I wrote my story simply to educate the world on how we, the specials feel. To really let people know that they truly have no idea what someone else has been through, or experienced. I have written my story to hopefully help others be a bit more empathetic, loving, and just plain nice. I would have liked a bit of empathy growing up. I would have liked to have my friends and family understand how someone like me feels. How everyday was, and unfortunately still is, a struggle. I want people to understand that depression is not a choice, and is very, very hard to conquer, especially if you are alone, or in an environment that chooses to make you feel useless and pointless. The real truth is that when you are depressed and alone, you will not ever see a light, even though your only goal is to find it. Finding it alone is almost impossible. I truly want to encourage others to help people find their light. A smile, a wave, simply asking how someone is doing... something so trivial as a hug can steer the depression in a different direction, and shock you into reality (even if it is for a short fleeting moment).

As of today, I have unfortunately lost my path. I have lost myself, my warrior, and my strength. I have suffered more than anyone should in their life. I have lived with this monster who tries to destroy me every chance it gets. I have lived on high alert, and have had no peace. I can not sleep... and there have been many times where I have felt that I have had no more fight left. I have almost given up more times than I can count. But despite it all, I have somehow become successful, despite all of the odds that were stacked against me... I have become likeable (usually anyway), beautiful, respected, and even (dare I say), a pretty damn good mother. And all of these things that I have become, I have learned on my own, through reading, watching, mimicking others. I was always determined, and as hard as my illness tried, it could never destroy the small part of my brain that held onto reality and logic. The warrior. She always stood with me, protected me. She sat with me while I cried. She would force me to take one more step, when I was sure I could not go any further. She was the only one who convinced me to get up off of the floor, even when I was beaten, bloody and broken. She pushes me, stands with me, even fought with me. My little voice, the warrior in me that has pushed me through, and made sure I became something other than what my illness wants me to be.

I should not be where I am today. And I am 100 percent sure there are millions of people that feel exactly the same way. I have somehow overcome the worst... and even though my monster slipped back in when I was not looking, I am on the right path to defeat it (or there are days I at least think I am)... again, like I have done countless times in the past. I have tuned into my energy, and the energy of the people around me. I have decided that Lisa is first, before anyone.

The problem with this is that I am viewed as selfish, difficult, even a bitch. I am uncooperative, unpredictable, unpleasant to be with. If only they could know what was really going on. If only they knew the war I was fighting, alone, in my mind. Through my adult life, I have learned that these are the times I must do what is good for me, regardless of how I am viewed (which is more like a selfish girl who only cares about herself). I have become numb to judgment and to what people really think of me. I must strategically put myself in a position where I can win, because losing is not an option. I have to put myself in a place where I have control… I am lucky. I am strong (or was). I am someone who has somehow defied statistics, and I am living a life that I was never supposed to have. I often wonder when the universe will see its mistake, and take it all away.

For those of you that deal with this parasite on a daily basis, like I do. For those very special people like me, I want my story to give you hope. I want this book to show you that even though there were many times I held the white flag, I never raised, or waved it. Even if it was the only thing I wanted to do. Even when I held it so tightly that my fingers bled. I never waved the flag. Giving up and letting my demon win would have been so much easier than this constant struggle. You need to know that you can at least lock up the demon, you can have happy moments. You can be successful and well liked. You can be like me, the random perfect person on the street, with the designer clothes, the perfect hair, the expensive bag. The person you know has it all (even though I don’t), even though it is all a show. Even though when you look at me you would probably never think that I was suffering. But I am, and I do, and I have probably suffered more than you ever have, and more than you could ever understand.

For those that have no idea what I am talking about. This book should be a lesson. Reading my story should open your eyes and teach you that we are not all the same. We have not all come from pretty houses or gone to fancy private schools. For most, there are no amazing parties to attend. We are not all beautiful on the inside, and we are not all taught basic concepts and skills that every single child should learn.

I learned basic acceptable behaviors on my own. I learned manners, I learned that it was proper to put my napkin in my lap, and not chew with my mouth open. I learned to blend in with the people that I wanted to be like. I learned on my own, through trial and error. I learned by having people laugh at me and tell me that I did not belong. I learned the ways of the proper people, because I wanted to be accepted, well liked, and looked at as one of them. Even though it took many years for anyone to see me as anything other than a piece of shit lost cause.

People like me exist everywhere. People like me live.

I was born and raised in Chicago, Illinois. I am a city girl. I love city noise, the sirens, the cars zooming by, the people walking by you, talking too loud. I find comfort in the craziness of a big city. I can blend in, hide the fact that I am so very different.

I am the oldest of 6... I have 2 sisters and 3 brothers. We are unique and we are a unit. We will always fight for each other. No matter the odds stacked against us. I use my sisters and brothers as lifelines. They help me when I am lost. I need them like I need air, and it has been difficult to live my adult life far from them.

I am a mother of 3 beautiful smart wonderful children. Luca, Leo, and Emma. I would do anything for my children... or for my siblings. My children were born, and are being raised in Quito, Ecuador. They are bilingual and have every single opportunity that I have ever wished for. Sometimes I feel they will never understand how lucky they are, but I work hard to show them, explain to them, and teach them, so that they will be better than me. I will make sure they know that they are not better than anyone, that people are all the same on the inside. I will make sure that (like me) they will always make the extra effort to be nice, to help others. They will learn by my example (I am often told I am too nice, even though I would never classify myself in that way). I give more than I should, and help a lot more than expected. I will teach my children that under all of the pretty shiny jewelry, designer clothes, beautiful cars, and expensive purses, under all of their unearned privilege, they are the same as anyone else they walk past on the street. They are no better than the janitor or the nanny. That just because they got lucky, just because they were dealt a good hand, they are not, and will never be superior to anyone. I hope that I can teach them empathy... humility, I hope I can teach these 3 wonderful children to use their privilege to help, and not hurt.

I married Santi (Santiago, who is a true Latin... which I did not realize until 2 months into our relationship). For whatever reason, this man that I went out with because my brother made me, specifically wanted me. He pursued me, (for a year), and did not stop until he got me. He respects and admires me. He sees something in me that I will never see. We have a wonderful trusting relationship, an unbreakable bond. If there is really such a thing as a soulmate, I would say that he is one of mine. He is special and magical and I feel happy supporting his dreams and goals. Especially since I know I should not be where I am... and I am only here because he chose me... because he felt I was special,he felt he needed me by his side, a protector, a warrior. In his opinion, I was worth bringing up to high society, (even if I didn't belong here, and am still not sure I