Rebuilt by Kindness: Finding Hope in the Most Unexpected Places
- Rowena Poole | Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer
- May 4
- 5 min read
At just sixteen years old, I needed help. I don’t remember much about the preceding days. It crept up on me. I was a frog in boiling water, unaware of the decline in my mental health. When I was finally forced to pay attention, I had hope that my parents could help me. Maybe they did try at first to no avail, but I was sent away. I was too caught up in my own drowning, that I didn’t look to see what they were doing. It still feels like they gave up on me too quickly.
The Breaking Point: When the World Feels Too Heavy
I found myself in a strange place, surrounded by other young adults like me. There were art supplies, puzzles, and games. But we were all treated like inmates.
I tried to heal there. I kept my head down, put in the effort, but nobody acknowledged it. I was never sent home. Was I seen as being manipulative? Only saying what the professionals wanted to hear? Days turned into months, and eventually all I could do was sit on my bed and cry. I was alone and powerless. I had no legal say in the matter, the matter that centered around me. My parents had given up and abandoned me. They would not take me home. I was stuck.
The People You Least Expect
First, it was just me. But then there was a nice girl or two whom I could talk to. It was not a cure, but it did make the situation feel slightly less intimidating. There were some staff members who were extra kind. They would tell me what was happening behind closed doors. It gave me a slight twinge of hope that things could be okay.
Finally, finally, after seven months, I was free. It has been seven years since then, and I continue to find new people who fix something they did not break. In the beginning, there were classmates who were surprisingly understanding. New friends in my later teen years who never judged. Old friends who have seen every side of me and never abandoned me. People come and go. A lot of the people who helped put me back together, even if they had no idea they were doing it, are no longer active in my life. But I never forgot who they once were to me.
I currently have a nice group of friends, whom I grew close to during my senior year of college. Some of them know more details than others, but they are all part of my support system, all the same. Some people are good to talk to, and some people are good to escape from the world for a little while with. People build each other up in many different ways.
Trust Reimagined: Learning to Believe Again
I realized that I can be open and honest with certain people. While I still avoid telling my parents anything, I currently have a nice handful of people I know I can trust. It was not easy to get here. In the past seven years, several people have left my life of their own volition. Several people have still broken me. Learning to trust anyone in life is a trial-and-error sport. I have learned that the best approach is to go slowly. Find people you enjoy spending time with. Try to open up a crack of something personal. If the action is reciprocated, then it might be safe to dive deeper. The ironic part for me, was that the deeper I dove in, the less I felt like I was drowning.
I could breathe.
I have people I can go to on a regular basis with any sort of problem, and I know they will be there to help. The scariest part is over. The trust is there. It started small, but I worked hard at growing it.
Moments That Mattered: Tiny Acts, Big Healing
The small act of staying judgment-free talks millions. There have been times when I would need a friend to help get me through a situation. Sometimes I would not want to talk about it, and letting it rest really helped me process. Other times, I would engage in deep conversation with those who are a little closer to me. There have been times I had a conversation with a close friend, and there have been times when I’ll just watch a movie with someone and bury the hard times in a big bowl of ice cream. Sometimes it’s simply the presence of someone you love and care about that’s enough for you. They never judge. They never pry. They are there for you when you need them, ready with a hug and an ear.
What I Would Tell Someone Who Is Losing Faith
I know what it’s like. I lived through it myself. Your anger and your pain are justified. When the world seems too dark, remember that I am living proof that it does get better. There are people who are here for you. You may not know them yet, and they may not be who you expect. It does get better. I know you’re tired of hearing that. But you do not need to go through this alone. Keep fighting, and you will find the people who will help build you back up. You might be surprised how many good people there still are in the world. You might surprise yourself with how strong and brave you can be. The bravest thing you can do right now is continue forward. I believe in you. Please believe in yourself.
Still Healing, Still Human
I continue on my journey after seven years, and for all the years that lie ahead. It was not a one-and-done situation. Some of my relationships and trust have been permanently damaged. I go forth with an understanding that it is inevitable I will be hurt again. That being said, I also know that there will be new people and new relationships to nurture. All I can do is hope that I can work hard enough to make the best ones last.
Since getting through the darkest of times at sixteen, I have graduated from both high school and college. I work hard at earning things I want. I share my stories. I made some excellent friends. I have also lost friends, been heartbroken, been devastated, and had to make really tough decisions. But I learned that life has its ups and downs. Making a really hard choice can ultimately be better for your mental health. I speak with a therapist twice a month to stay as on track as possible. I picked up a plethora of coping skills throughout the years, and I continue to use the ones that work. I need to work through my trauma responses and the lasting effects.
Scars can heal. The ones that didn’t got covered up by a beautiful tattoo that I am proud to show off. The best thing we can do is continue to learn, to grow, to speak, and to help.
Rowena Poole
Mental Health Advocate | Guest Writer of Moody Melon Magazine
I am a multimedia storyteller with a passion for supporting mental well-being. With a background in animation and creative writing, I use my skills to share meaningful messages that promote understanding and positive change.
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