Mental illness is not beautiful. There. I said it.

I have watched too many films and read too many books romanticizing mental illnesses. The whole "just grab my hand! I will save you!" is so unrealistic. Feeling so lost and helpless is nothing you want. Take it from someone who has been there. The last thing I would describe my mental illnesses as is “beautiful”.

No, no one will sweep you off your feet and rescue you. It is not like any book you have read or television series you watched or movie you obsessed over. Life is not The Notebook. I remember in 2012 when I was extremely depressed and everyone was quoting The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It made me so angry. When I saw that movie in the theater, fifteen-year-old Katelyn related way too much to the way Charlie felt every single day. To have the girls in school quoting the book and thinking it was “so cute” that he felt that way made me lose feeling in my entire body. I thought I was crazy for feeling the way I did...or that it was becoming a trend to feel the way I did. One of which I found to become true as social media became more and more popular.

No, suicide is not pretty. It’s really, really not. I can go on forever about this one. It has been two and a half years since one of my friends took her own life and it still stings just as bad as the day I found out. The amount of times I still hear “I’m so sorry” is appalling. I’m not even a family member. I don’t have to stare at an empty bedroom everyday. Scrolling through social medias and seeing how people think suicide is beautiful and takes all the pain away shakes me in ways I cannot explain. Never romanticize something that changes so many lives for the worst. And yes, it does. Suicide is devastation, feeling like there is nothing else to live for. I still feel guilt. Guilt for her and guilt for feeling that way myself.

No, depression is not someone wiping your tears away every single night. Depression is darkness. Depression is feeling like you can’t breathe. It’s feeling like you’re being choked and realizing you are the one choking yourself. Depression is feeling alone in a room with your best friends in the entire world. Depression is shoving pills down your throat to try and feel okay until you go to sleep again...if you can sleep. Depression is the voices in your head telling you that it isn’t worth it to get out of bed, to talk that day, to think you look nice, to think someone loves you.

No, anxiety is not the person you are with holding you until you stop shaking uncontrollably at three in the morning. Anxiety is impossible to be explained by a nine-year-old. Anxiety is not someone taking you out of the school bathroom to tell you to go to class because you can do it. Anxiety is feeling like you have a huge knot in your throat and you just can't get it out. Anxiety is staring at the clock with sweaty palms and a nauseous stomach. Anxiety is counting down the hours until your blankets can hug you again. Anxiety is being afraid to die, but my depression made me want to die. There is a deeper problem than what people see when they romanticize these and other mental illnesses.

Although, all of this happened, and I appreciate the person that was with me through it all, picked me up when I needed it, kissed every single scar that covered my body both physically and mentally, and still told me he loved me every single day. Thank you. You know who you are.

Along with him, I have to thank my parents, brother, friends, family and therapist because I could not be doing what I am without you. You are my rock.

There are amazing people both in my life and in other’s lives that have helped me and others see the light at the end of the tunnel. But although they should forever be thanked, it’s YOU who needs to overcome your mental illness. It’s YOU who needs to change their point of view. It IS possible. I’m not 100%, but I think I’m pretty d*mn close.

Mental illness is not pretty. To every media outlet, stop portraying it as such. To every person looking at someone that has a mental disorder and thinking “oh! If I have (insert mental disorder here) someone will save me and love me! It says so in (insert ignorant TV show, book, movie, etc.)”, stop. Just stop. I would do anything to not feel like I wanted to disappear for most of high school. I would give anything to make the people in my life not feel like they were walking on eggshells and feeling like they constantly have to help me. Looking back on my days in high school, I can barely think of days where I didn’t feel like complete sh*t. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

As someone that is planning on becoming a therapist, the last thing I would want to hear is that mental illnesses are pretty, trendy, or cool to have. Things like that make shivers go up and down my spine.

If you or anyone you know is suffering from a mental illness, just know that you are not alone. There is always someone to talk to. You do not need to suffer in silence. Someone will always listen to you. There is always a light at the end of the tunnel and you WILL get there. Recovery is possible, I promise.

Live gracefully.