Let me rip off the bandage: I've been depressed for four or five years and I've had anxiety since before I knew it had a name.
Growing up with anxiety and depression, I felt as though what I said wasn't always appreciated. I was often ignored, both by family and by friends, constantly feeling as though no one cared for what I had to say. Frequently, I'd talk about things that I loved and, again, be ignored or told that no one cared. Because of this, as I grew up I began to rethink everything I said, replaying conversations over and over in my head even if I had said nothing wrong. Additionally, when someone would say something rude or hurtful to me, I would focus on their words, repeating them to myself time and time again, thinking "they don't like me," and feeling terrible for it, even if I barely knew the person, or didn't even know them at all. My depression just made me feel void almost all of the time. Whenever someone would say or do something kind, it made my day better, even for only a short time.
Because of mental illness, I've felt empty and worthless and completely hurt.
Because of mental illness, I know how much it means for someone to be kind.
As I've grown, I've done my best to be kind to others, as much as they are to me, that is. I try to listen to everything others say to me because I once felt completely ignored. When in a group of people and someone tries to speak, but is drowned out by the voices of others, I try to pay attention to what that person is saying because I know the feeling of no one caring for what I have to say. I try as best as I can to never say something hurtful, at least not as far as I'm aware because I know how deeply it can cut. I try to say kind words to others when I can because I know how much it means to hear them.
I hate the idea that anything I say or do could make another person feel badly about themselves. Though I can't always ensure that what I say won't be hurtful to another person, I'd feel terrible to know that it had. I know how it feels to be depressed, to feel worthless, to be hurt, and I'd never wish that on anyone. I try my best to never be the source of someone else's pain.
That being said, while I've suffered at the hands of mental illness for quite a while, it's also shaped me as a person. I've grown around my depression and my anxiety, and while I'm not grateful for its presence in my life, I'm glad that I am the person I am today.
