It has been said that the first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem. To put your pride aside and finally say those words. I say, though, that the first step is accepting that you have a problem. By accepting the truth, you are able to view your reality from a whole new perspective. Your perspective shifts from one of a defenseman, to one of someone on the offense. You can finally start to let people in... even yourself.

Here's my story of how I let myself in.

The backbone of my mental illness has always been my inability to accept it. It allowed it to grow, morph, and strengthen, even become a fully functioning being, shacking up behind my eyes. That being said, my time at Boston University wasn't really my time, it was time characterized by fighting against myself for control over the mind and body that carries my name. My time became Depression's time. Anxiety's time, even Panic.

I had admitted my problem years ago, starting therapy at 10 years old, medication at 18. But the first semester of my junior year was the first time I finally accepted the role of mental illness in my life and the fact that it would continue to grow inside me until it was all I was made of.

In order to do this, I had to leave the stressful-become-unmanageable rigor of Boston University. I had to go home.

This is the first sign of recovery for those suffering from mental illness.

Whether it be depression or anxiety, addiction or OCD, in order to live with psychological disorders, sufferers often have to come to terms with the fact recovery often requires some serious lifestyle changes. For me, that lifestyle change was relieving myself of the stress of my ambition and truly focusing on my health. I had to let go of all of the exhausting expectations I've had of myself ever since I could conceptualize the idea of "success" in today's world.

I've been away from school for about three and a half months now and I've recently started to feel like recovery is possible. And it's not because of some overwhelming certainty, it's because of the little things. Here are a few of them:

Being able to get out of bed after 8 hours. Being able to read for leisure. Going a day without taking a nap. Remembering to take my medication. Not needing caffeine. Offering to walk my dog. Laughing hard at something. Taking a shower. Going for a run, even if it's short. Doing laundry. Staying engaged in conversation. Spending time (willingly) with friends and family.

Writing this article.

In reality, recovery, for those with mental illness, is being able to go about daily life. To go about daily life without growing exhausted from the thought of continuing without falling back on tendencies you've adopted from your illness.

For example, my illness compelled me to sleep, almost all the time. When I was at my worst, even just the thought of living a full day on a reasonable amount of sleep (7-9 hours) was excruciating. So, for me, recovery looks like doing things, the list above, and more.

Recovery is so diverse of a process for those with psychological disorders and doesn't have to look a certain way. The problem is that a lot of people don't understand that fact, even sufferers themselves. If we could all recognize the small victories, the subtle progress, I think we could keep a lot of people on track to managing their health issues.

What I'm trying to say is, don't get discouraged. Don't give up because you think it's taking too long, or you're too weak. In reality, there is no cure for mental illness, there is only acceptance and fighting it until you don't feel shackled down by it. So be proud. Be proud you cooked yourself dinner. Be proud you got up early. Proud you exercised or ran errands. You're strong and you'll get there. There is no right way, no perfect way.

And for all of you out there fighting an invisible battle, you're not alone. It sounds cliche, but that's just because it's fundamentally true. You are not alone in this struggle.