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Cass
One of the children that taught us to focus more specifically on the children of a family is Cass. When we met Cass, she was 14 years old. She had been starving herself for just over a month. Her parents didn't know because they didn't eat meals together. Sometimes, when asked about dinner, she would say it was a YOYO dinner. YOYO means, You are On Your Own. She started to starve herself from depression she experienced after being raped by a friend she had invited to her house while her parents were at work.
Through our work with Cass, she began eating again. We worked through many bouts with depression and thoughts of suicide. Today, she is a productive, well adjusted, and generally happy adult. She confided to us just recently that she intends to return to school so she can become a therapist who works with people who either need or currently have emotional support animals.
In addition to her love of horses and animals in general, Cass also enjoys writing. Below is her story in her words:
Admittedly, in my younger age, my goal in life had always been to make others laugh. In doing so, I had gotten into quite a bit of mischief. My Aunts and Uncles fondly remember my kinder days, a smile with dimpled cheeks and a freckle dotted nose. I was a child of simple tastes, allowing imagination to work the better part of me. More often than not, I'd spend my time daydreaming and using my creativity to captivate my friends. Early on, life was very easy for me and most importantly I was happy.
As most tales go, my story too has a turning point, one that changes the perspective entirely. During my Freshman year in a Cumberland County High School, I found myself most regrettably alone. Both of my parents worked and the grandmother I was closest to passed away years earlier. To say my mind eased its way into depression is only partially correct. When the thoughts began, they were brutal. Regret is a word that lingered in the back of my mind. "It was my fault," a phrase I had repeated in my head continuously for years. If only I hadn't invited him over, if only I could have stopped him from his cruel intentions, if only, if only. During my fourteenth year, a few weeks after my birthday, I was sexually molested by someone I had once called a friend. I never consented, but his argument was I never said "no."
Shortly thereafter, I began to breakdown. Depression had lurked, anxieties had descended down like a down pouring rain, and most importantly my 'friends' vacated. I don't entirely blame them. As I would learn later, no one wants to stick around a person who is sad. People migrate towards those who are happy and bring joy to others. I was sad, therefore my friends and family didn't really socialize or want to hang around me. So one by one, I felt they were leaving me. I knew what was coming and I knew why, so I secluded myself in fear they'd consider me weak. I wanted to be strong like stone, but my mind had too many defects. In search for an easy patch-up, I controlled the one thing I was able to control, my diet. Starving myself was an easy solution and provided punishment for what I had done.
My life felt empty and meaningless. Starving myself physically represented the emptiness I felt on the inside. I was expressing how I felt. Inwardly, I was falling apart while I was trying to fool everyone else outwardly. I never spoke of how my internal being was crying and literally dying. There was no joy and no laughter, just isolation. It was like a disease, almost as if I was a leper who cast herself away so no one else would be affected. I was hurt and didn't want to drag anyone else down with me.
At the time, my parents and I rarely ate dinner together. Mom thought she was going to lose her job. My father and I were fighting more than we were getting along. With these and other burdens weighing on their chests, they noticed only little changes going on in my life. Carrying this extra burden alone was much easier than expressing to someone else what happened and how much it impacted me.
It was only when my thoughts began to consume what little joy I had that I needed to find a way to expel some of the negative energy that seemed to flow through me. Out of desperation, I did the one thing I could think of. In my mind, it was the last chance I had to get the help I so desperately needed. I placed a message on an anonymous web site in a leap of courage asking for help. Little did I know that someone would actually respond, because in my head who would toy with something that is broken?
Trust did not come easy, and I must tell you that I was not making it a walk-in-the-park for him. Our beginning conversations were very awkward, and I had decided from the start not to allow him to delve in my personal life. At this point, I figured he would only last a short period of time like everyone else had. If he stuck around more than wanted I'd rid him just as easily as I did the rest. But to my surprise, and relief, he didn't relent. No matter how hard I pushed him away, he didn't leave me. He made it his duty to provide whatever counseling I needed, whether it be a parent, grandparent, friend, etcetera. He encouraged me to eat.
Nutritional shakes to start, so my body could get used to eating again, then more and more. Without his knowing so, talking to him provided some relief through the ongoing struggle and the stability I needed. He didn't ask anything of me, never once was our friendship an even trade. It was him who controlled the conversations, but I only allowed him tidbits of information. Nevertheless, he drew the simple conclusion that I was depressed by something more than I was letting on. I was acting as though I had an armor and shield, when in reality only a thin sheet was protecting me from the outside. When he had asked about it, I denied him the truth.
Shortly after my new friend and I had made one another's acquaintance, I grew a dark secret. Thoughts of death came flooding in as an option to finally rid myself of the horrendous gloominess. Losing sight of any joy I held onto, I wished myself dead by accident rather than suicide. I thought my life to be a pathetic waste and prayed to God that he would take me out of the world just as quickly as I came. When prayer of accidental death did not prevail, I took matters into my own hands. I had gotten as far as knowing exactly how I would do it. I thought of suicide every day, and sometimes many times throughout the day.
But just before I'd end it all, I asked myself what they would think. My family, coming home to a daughter who committed suicide. Friends, who would walk the halls wondering what they did wrong; because it's only a human reaction to add themselves to an equation. Teachers, recalculating what they might have missed or what they could have done. My pets, because no one loves them more than me. And what the gentleman on the phone would think when he no longer received messages from the girl who was sad.
For awhile, it was them who kept me on my feet while my world seemed to teeter totter. After my first brink with suicide, I told him everything he requested to know. It was then that I realized I had a long road to travel, but my pack was much lighter now and the world felt a little less uneasy every passing day.
Several years have passed since my world seemed to collapse beneath me, and the man on the phone and I still chat. Depression is only in my history and I intend for it to stay that way. Suicide is no longer an option, my life will not be wasted in a land filled with opportunity and adventures. I've done quite a bit of traveling and am only just seeing how large and exotic our world actually is. I've only been given one life in a world that has so much to offer and limited time to explore it.
I know I am not the only teen to go through this. In fact, teens going through things like this is becoming the norm. Depression in teens is more prevalent now than ever before in human history. My friend is committed to making a difference in the lives of teens like he made a difference in my life. I am letting him tell my story because every teen death that is the result of the emptiness and depression I experienced in my life, or even any of the other problems teens face today, is a tragedy that is completely avoidable. I want to help him give them the love, understanding, and stability they so desperately need.
I also want parents to know that they should express the joy of being a parent. I know parenting is really hard. It is often a thankless job. Good parents are over worked, and under appreciated. I am not a parent yet, but my friend is a dad. He tells me that it is worth all the heartache, worry, and work. What I know for sure is that you never know when your kids are watching. They are watching and eavesdropping on you all the time. Let your kids see and experience positive energy flow through you in every day life. They need that positive energy and love much more than they need the things they say they want.
When Bruce came into my life, he could have been anybody. He could have been someone who wanted to hurt me just as much as he could have been the person he turned out to be. I had been taught not to talk to strangers. I had been taught to be careful of strangers on the Internet. But I was so broken, depressed, and desperate, that I really didn't care if something bad had happened to me. No matter how much you have warned your kids, no matter how intelligent or mature they are, teens are doing the same things I did.
