Four years ago, I was with a guy who had zero tolerance for my breakdowns, my anxiety attacks and my depression. He was never there for me during my rough times, only when I was the happy and energized girl he wanted to show off to his friends. At the time, I had never been told why I felt the way I did or how to deal with my anxiety and depression. I assumed that he and others were right in saying I was crazy or that the apple didn't fall too far from the tree (speaking of my complicated family life). I thought I was too crazy and too complicated to be loved properly.
Fast forward a few months after I broke it off with that guy and moved to a new town and a new school. I met a new guy, who made me feel comfortable and beautiful, but I still hid those sides of myself in fear that I would push him away. He came from a family with no mental health issues, so he had no idea what he was getting himself into when he asked me to be his girlfriend. After a few months, he saw my first anxiety attack.
Without hesitation, he gave me a shoulder to cry on, listened to my fears and worries and assured me that he wasn't going anywhere. I was shocked. I expected him to call me crazy and break it off right then. Over the next few months, my anxiety got the best of me and I convinced myself that I didn't deserve this kind of love, that he would resent me over time because of all of my problems. Every time I broke down in front of him, I thought it was over. I thought that he wasn't going to stick around, or he was going to find a girl with fewer issues.
When I tried to end things because of this, he laughed and, once again, assured me that I wasn't a burden and he wasn't going anywhere. The last four years have been a whirlwind of family problems, depression and anxiety, but he has been there through it all. No matter how rough it gets, he's there to make sure I know that it's not my fault and there is nothing wrong with me. He goes to my doctor's appointments with me. He helps me remember to take my medicine. He checks on me when he can tell I'm not feeling great. He motivates me to get out of bed every day, but he understands when I need to take a mental health day.
My issues once told me to settle for less than I deserve, but the love he has shown me helped me figure out that I am so deserving of this love. His love has taught me that, despite my mental health problems, I am worthy of an amazing, unwavering love. Would I choose to live with anxiety and depression? No, of course not, but I know now that I am still normal, and I am capable of loving and being loved. That feeling is something irreplaceable.
