I actually looked forward to going to the hospital, except for the extreme guilt I felt for leaving my family without someone to care for them, and knowing the extra work that would be waiting for me upon my return home. In the hospital, I received three meals plus snacks. I could watch TV, and I could sleep in a bed by myself. There were no chores to do, and no one beating me. Every time I left the hospital, I wondered if the asthma would end and I wouldn’t be able to return to the hospital. I didn’t want my asthma to end.

Eventually, my asthma went under control with the help of medication. I had overcome one hurdle in my life. Then another presented itself. My older brother and step-father decided to show me what women were truly for, according to them. After about a year, I ran away from home, not caring anymore if my family could survive without me or not. I actually left planning to kill myself. I went into the woods with a knife, far away from the world, intent on slitting my wrists. But I could not do it. So I kept running until I found a place to stay, someplace where I could be alone and not hurt by another. I finished high school, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do, but I also felt some pride in doing so. I was the first in my family to graduate (my parents and older brother had dropped out of school).

The religion of my parents convinced me that I had to return home-it was my duty. Women were supposed to take care of men and listen to them. Because I felt it was the right thing to do, I contacted my family, and eventually moved home. I began to work in the work world, but had no knowledge of working, as my parents didn’t work since I knew them, and I had not worked before either. My step-father thwarted every effort of mine to work because he wanted me home tending to the family. I had no driver’s license (and lived in the country), so was dependent on my step-father for transportation. He frequently refused to take me to work. He convinced me to sign up for SSI; in time I, too was dependent on the State for income.

But I wanted more out of my life than to sit home everyday. I decided to get my driver’s license-against my step-father’s wishes. I enrolled in college and soon moved out again, never to return home.

Still, I didn’t want to live. I saw no meaning in life, and felt that all life had to offer was pain. Would I be depressed for the rest of my life? I sincerely thought the answer was yes, because I didn’t know what happiness was. Up to that point, a good day for me was to not be hungry all day, and to not be abused in some form. Happiness was a dream, and a dream that I felt I could not attain. The career I sought was one as a care-giver. Caring for another was all I knew, and all I thought I was good for.

My health declined dramatically during college, leaving me to search for other forms of healing to relieve my symptoms and pain. I began seeking counseling to heal the depression I felt. After a time, I decided to pursue learning in natural health, for people actually heal with natural health, whereas I felt medicine left people ill sometimes.

But the depression lingered. I was able to function daily. I found a job and got off SSI. I was so proud that day. My step-father would have said I was stupid, but I felt a sense of pride that I could do something he could not, and that I wanted to work, where he did not.

Many obstacles came into my path during my healing. I found that the friends I had chosen a few years earlier were people who used others to make themselves feel better. I soon discovered that I attracted that type of individuals because taking care of others was what I knew to do, and all I felt I could do. I had little respect for myself that I was a person and deserved better. I began to stand up for myself and to want to be treated better. Several of these friends became angry, and I wound up losing them as friends. This caused a lot of pain, and, for a time, my desire to die was heightened. But I still never died.

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