TW: bullying, cancer, death of a family member, suicide ideation, mention of overdose
Hello HS Family!
My name is Francisco, 42 years old originally from the city of Chicago, IL now residing in Orlando, FL. I’m a musician, producer and DJ who currently has 3 albums out under my DJ Starion name, and am currently working on a side project called Vanadra which is more hardstyle/metal/industrial based. I’m also huge into tech, gaming, and am a roller coaster enthusiast as well!
Growing up, I had kind of a mixed childhood. I hated school. Absolutely HATED it, mainly because I was going to a private school and I knew I didn’t fit in there. I was bullied a lot because of my weight so I kept to myself. Same thing happened in high school up until my senior year but worse. This was right when the internet was really taking off and I started talking to a girl named Adrienne who lived in upstate NY. One day I had had enough. I threw as many clothes into trash bags as I could, pretended I was going to school, and just drove from Chicago to upstate NY in the middle of winter to see her. I wanted to feel loved and validated, but I had that love from my mom and I didn’t see it, nor did I really vocalize it, but I had no regrets about what I did. Everything happened for a reason. I never went back to that school. I did public school for a year but then dropped out and eventually got my GED.
After that, I thought my life was pretty…okay? I was in and out of relationships, but still had a great group of friends that I still have to this day. I was doing concert photography, and writing and interviewing bands for this website called RazorArt. I was pretty content. Then I actually found a sweet job around 2011 working for my all time favorite team, the MLB’s Chicago White Sox, in their marketing department. I had also met my current girlfriend, now fiance around that time. I thought things couldn’t get any better, but I soon got a HUGE reality check.
One day, my mom comes home and is saying that here stomach is hurting her badly, and that she may want to go to urgent care. So we go, and they run some tests and immediately tell us she needs to go to the ER next door, so we do. What had happened is she had a fluid build up, which was one of the symptoms of ovarian cancer. They did more tests and in fact confirmed it. I was scared out of my mind, because I didn’t know what was going to happen. I didn’t want to lose my mom. She was EVERYTHING to me. I was there with her for every single chemo treatment, every single surgery, and we thought we were clear when she had a hysterectomy. But the cancer came back. They did one more procedure but found out that there were so many tumors that at that point it had become terminal. So she technically was discharged from the hospital and admitted into home hospice. They were absolutely amazing in taking care of her from the moment she left the hospital until 1pm CST on March 15, 2014, when she took her final breath.
The next week was absolutely chaotic. 2 hours after she passed, I got a call from my job at the time (I had moved over to a radio station by then) and found out I had gotten laid off. And I was staying with my mom too, so my uncle who owned the apartment building, was asking me what I was planning on doing. That’s the LAST thing on my mind right now. Luckily, my girlfriend and her mom agreed to let me stay with them. So we had a service for my mom, and after that I started packing up all my stuff and moving it in with them. Shortly there after, we decided to move to Florida, which they always wanted to live at, and was nice for me since I had family here too. I had family in Chicago too still of course, which included my grandma, who had started getting dementia but REALLY amplified after my mom passed. Not long after my mom, on Christmas day 2015, she had passed as well.
Between all that, plus a really bad car accident I had gotten into in 2017, I was starting to really get into a dark place. Like I wasn’t myself at all, but between my childhood and so many changes, I didn’t know what “being myself” felt like anymore. It all came to a head in April of 2019, which is when I actually attempted suicide via overdose. I was on my back porch at like 2am, and I didn’t want to wake up the next day. I had my phone in my hand and had a decision to make. Either write my suicide note or call for help. I was scared of getting forced into the hospital so I ended up calling my bosses boss who has been a great person to me and asked what I could do to get help since by that point I had worked at my current job for about 2 years at that point.
He got me connected with my company’s health care team, and they helped me for the next 6 hours or so basically talking me off the ledge. I started seeing a primary doctor (who I didn’t like at all) but got me connected with my psychiatrist and a LMHC (licensed mental health counselor) who I absolutely adore and still see to this day. They started me on my path to recovery. My company actually gave me about 4 months off to make sure I was getting all the help I needed, making sure I was adjusting to my medications, all that stuff. It was hard yet rewarding because I had taken probably the hardest step in my life: admitting that I needed help. I was starting to actually feel somewhat normal? Or I guess the word would be better? Because up until that point I had no clue what normal was. I felt clear and this sense of relief. Things that bothered me before or triggered me weren’t triggering…as much. When it came to my mental health recovery, it was definitely a marathon vs a sprint, which in my opinion is actually a good thing. I wanted to fix myself, but I also knew that once I was in a good point in my life I wanted to help others that may have gone through situations like mine.
Nobody’s perfect though, and there are times that I still feel defeated, but I look at those situations differently now. I don’t consider anything a failure per se, but more so of a learning opportunity. If something doesn’t go right, how can I learn based on that situation to help myself grow as a person? The whole reason I love to share my story is that I want to show people that I’m vulnerable. I’m always going to be a work in progress, and that no matter how dark things may seem, you can recover and bounce back. The road to recovery when it comes to mental health is kind of like a map to your country. People start in different places and want to get to a different place that’s meaningful to their health. Whether it be from Chicago to Orlando, Newcastle to Manchester, Adelaide to Sydney, or any other locations. Some are just a short drive away, others are a transatlantic flight, but the journey is very much doable and worth it.
Always remember: Your story isn’t over yet.
