There is no beauty in suffering.
Honestly. It seems like a self-explanatory statement, but sometimes people forget. It's easy to make heartbreak, depression, anxiety, even suicide, poetic. We as humans seem to cope better when we add flouncy words and roses to dark situations. But that's not how it is. There is nothing beautiful about suffering with a mental illness, and yet often times people try to portray it that way. They portray those struggling as lost souls, fallen angels, survivors waging this war against themselves, and while it's nice and all, it's not true.
Don't romanticize my mental illness.
Don't add flowers or rainbows to my struggle to make it easier for you to understand. Don't demean or dismiss my battle as something much easier than it was. Because ya know what?
I don't want to hear it.
I don't want to hear about how "my angelic figure has fought relentless wars that no one will ever see," and I don't want to know about the "stars twinkling in the eyes of an age old martyr, who has seen the world too many times to..." Blah, blah, blah. I don't want to sugar-coat it: the pain, the anger, the hatred, the loneliness, the sadness. I don't want your pity, your condolences, or your sympathy.
What I really want is to talk to you, to tell you how I really feel, and to help you understand what it really feels like to live with anxiety and depression. I want you to understand that I'm not some monster because I feel this way. I am the same person that I have always been, and that shouldn't affect how you look at me. I know how to handle my mental illness, but sometimes I need your help, whether it be giving me my space, letting me know you're still there, or reminding me of your love. I am strong, never question that; after all, I've been living this long with this illness. I am not weak.
I am not weak. Do not make me seem anything less than what I am.
I am a warrior. I have survived silently with this war inside my mind for as long as I can remember. I have fought everyday against myself. I am a soldier hardened by battles that have left scars on my arms and wounds on my heart.
I am not weak.
I am not weak.
