Mental illness. It can break you down, wear you out, and turn your life completely upside down.

It can damage friendships, relationships, jobs, you name it. It can even make you feel like just a shell of a person. Hell, I had to take an entire month off of just writing these articles because my own mental health was spiraling out of control and I desperately needed time away from everything to focus on myself and get my life back on track. I'm here to tell you that it's okay to have a mental illness.

It's okay to admit that you are struggling. Most importantly, it is absolutely okay to admit that you need help. It doesn't mean that you're weak, or a quitter, or any worse than anyone who doesn't deal with a mental health issue. It means that you are strong enough to persevere and you will get better.

Mental illnesses are no joke. I can tell you from personal experience just how much they can completely change your day in just a matter of seconds.

For me, mental illness hits in the form of depression and anxiety, mostly manifesting itself in self-doubt, a lack of sense of worth, and absolutely no confidence. It has been bad enough that I can't force myself to get out of bed in the morning.

I've missed classes, dates, canceled plans with friends, and has made my life a living hell at times. In the end, I end up pushing the people I love and care about most away because I somehow twist my mind into believing that they deserve happier friends and that just isn't something that I can provide for them. When it gets really bad, I smoke and turn to alcohol to numb myself.

Recently, it had gotten bad. I was floundering in my depression, having anxiety attacks, and starting to give up on myself. That was when my friends pushed me in the right direction. They urged me to go to the counseling center. From there, I was sent to Taylor Health and put on antidepressants. Things are still bad, don't get me wrong, but now I'm taking the correct steps to improve.

More than anything, it has been my three closest friends that have helped me through these hard times. When I'm ready to give up, they have faith in me. When I try to push them away because I think they deserve better, they pull me back in and make sure I know how much I mean to them. When it's late at night and I'm struggling, they go for a drive, they call me, they talk me through it all. That's what I believe that everyone needs: friends who won't let them quit on themselves.

The first weekend of March was particularly difficult, but it also opened my eyes to just how much my friends mean to me and how much they do for me. I had been doing extremely well for almost an entire week.

I hadn't drank in over a week, I hadn't smoked in a but once or twice. Then that Friday was when everything came crashing down. I had a terrible nightmare and I fully allowed it to dictate my mood for the day. I lashed out at my friends for stupid reasons and then felt extremely guilty about it afterward. That made work worse, and then after work my mood just kept deteriorating. I pushed and I pushed until I was completely alone.

I did it to myself. I fell asleep in one of the worst moods I'd been in in a very long time.

Saturday morning was just as bad. I struggled to get out of bed, canceled my plans with a friend, and just wallowed in my sadness. Work that day was only a four-hour shift, but it dragged on and my mood somehow got even worse.

Once I was off, you guessed it, I laid in bed and watched Netflix and ignored the world. I was at one of the lowest points I had ever been at, even to the point of considering the easy way out. Thankfully, a friend called me and asked me to DD for her and got me out of my apartment. That was step one towards improving. After DDing for her, I let myself cry. As simple as it is, it honestly helped a lot.

Then, around 11:30 that night, I got a text asking how I was doing from someone I was sure I had pushed away for good. Surprise, she hadn't given up on me. From then on, everything slowly got better. I went and picked her up and our late night adventure began. Sure, the adventure started with a speeding ticket, but that isn't important.

\We drove around until 4 A.M. Sunday morning, just getting lost and talking and fixing things. She brought back the real me, got me out of the hole I had dug myself into, and reminded me that I am NOT my mental illness. I am NOT my depression, my anxiety, my self-doubt.

That's what it's all about. Remembering that no matter how bleak things may seem, no matter how bad the darkness gets, that is not who you are. I know that I am a good person. I have a huge heart, a great sense of humor (although it is basically the humor of a 12-year-old), and I have a great personality.

My friends all love and care about me, regardless of what my mind may try to tell me at times. Things are not nearly as bad as I like to try to make myself believe. I will get better and never stop working to be the happy person that I love to be so much.

If I can do it, anyone can.