The scary, deep, scaring and evolving parts of mental illness have plagued me for about a year and a half now. I have dealt with draining bouts of depression, panic-inducing anxiety and the confusing and exhausting mental backflips that come with borderline personality disorder. I have been called many things: from manipulative and saddening, to pathetic and even cold. And I have felt like all of those labels fit me at some point or another in my mental health journey, either because I was in a malleable mental state, or because I was truly being those things, and I was able to process and accept those titles.

Along with that, I have also seen more positivity and love than I could have ever imagined from those around me who truly support and care about me. People have understood that my mental illnesses are a part of me and something that I do not have complete control over. It is not something that I chose, but it is a part of my life. The people in my life have come to understand that sometimes I need space, and others I need to be surrounded by other souls. They have adapted to the life that I have come to live.

With all of those feelings and emotions, the labels, and the confusion, throughout this year and a half, I felt as if I BECAME my mental illness. "I AM depression and anxiety. I AM borderline personality disorder. I AM mental illness," my mind chanted to me relentlessly as I took my medication (almost) every day and sat in therapy sessions, formal and not. My mental health journey was becoming the epitome of who I was; it was the only thing that I felt connected to and it consumed my thoughts. Would I beat these demons? Was I too happy in that moment? Will I relapse into the darker depths of these oceans of emotions, or will I rise higher than I've ever been?

Now, I feel that the tight grip my mental illnesses have had on me in the past is finally loosening. I have been in full recovery mode and have made strides of progress on my own accord. I am understanding my own mind and mental state better, and I am finding ways to cope with what my mind throws at me in healthier ways. And I feel like I am no longer just my mental illness. I feel as though I am in the midsts of a break-up; the worst and the best kind. I feel like I am shedding a toxic relationship, but I also feel like I am losing a sense of who I am.

Without my mental illness and the labels that come with it, who am I? Who am I if I'm not depression and anxiety, or a borderline? Well, after a long and in-depth self-evaluation, I came up with a simple answer: I am still me. And you, the person living through this same extreme shift and extraordinary sense of recovery and lifted burdens, are still you. You are not bipolar, or obsessive-compulsive, or high-functioning schizoaffective. You are the kind soul that your parents raised. You are the funny and supportive shoulder to lean on that your friends love and need in their lives. You are the hard-working and self-reliant employee that your bosses and colleagues appreciate daily. You are the self-sufficient and self-loving "you" that you have always been—just a little wiser now.

This rebirth of yourself as you recover from mental illness is one of the most important steps in recovery. No, you are not losing yourself. Yes, your mental illness, and the hell you gave it as you fought to get this far, will always be a part of your life. But as you step out of the shadow that is your mental illness, understand that you will shine even brighter than you could have ever imagined. You aren't tied down to just your recovery and your mental health. Your diagnosis was never "you"—you and it were NEVER one in the same. You are simply "you."

Until next week friends.