When you feel everything so very deeply, life is like a cage. Some days, the door is locked and there's no escape. Sadness is the everlasting darkness of a stubborn storm that refuses to let up. It consumes you, becomes you. Depression is overwhelming and unforgiving, and you begin to recall every little thing you've ever done wrong that could be an explanation as to why you must endure such internal agony. Every waking moment seems to be spent in a war zone you call your mind, while all you can do is wait and hope that the sun will shine through again.

But then there are the good days — and the good days are usually really good days. The storm is no more and there's not a cloud in the sky to block your sunlight. Nothing could possibly go wrong and you love everything about yourself. You stop for a few moments and wonder how you could ever feel as depressed as you felt just a couple of days ago. "Why would I allow myself to be that empty again when everything is just so good?" And then there's the fear; that dark and twisted fear that appears like a devil on your shoulder to tell you, "You'll hate yourself again soon, I promise."

You see, I've come to realize that while I am not specifically defined by my mental illnesses, all of them are a part of me that just don't seem to be planning to leave anytime soon. They linger like a guest that has overstayed their welcome, creeping through your neighborhood until they have the opportunity to swing by unannounced again.

I suffer from depression, anxiety, bi-polar disorder and complex PTSD. Sometimes, I'll only experience one or two at once, while the others seem to remain dormant for a short period of time. Other times, they all seem to magically disappear, and I'm left with a minute gap of time in order to briefly learn to love myself again. On rare occasions, however, they all seem to correlate at once to become an everlasting nightmare that I can't seem to wake myself up from.

Learning to love myself has been the most difficult challenge I have ever endured, and it's a journey that I have yet to completely accomplish. Throughout my life, I've forced myself to rely on others to define my happiness; I've never been quite comfortable with being alone, no matter how many times I would isolate myself. It's difficult - when you've lived the majority of your life pretending to be happy - to completely remold your mindset in a way that allows you to constantly find the positive in situations.

I've told myself that this is what I want, this is what I need, to begin the process of learning to truly love myself. No more fake smiles. No more bottled-up feelings. No more negativity about things I can't control, and no more worries about the things I can. My life is a rollercoaster that needs to be repaired; I need to make myself truly realize that it's okay to feel the universe of emotions from time to time, as long as I don't let the bad days consume me.

I talk about the struggles within myself in hopes that someone out there won't feel as alone as I've felt for the majority of my life. Loving yourself is the most important thing you can do for yourself. Too many people call it selfish entitlement, but I say it's opening a doorway to the happiest you've ever allowed yourself to become.

I'm getting there. Slowly but surely, I'm getting there; and I refuse to give up on a future that is mine to determine.