Recently, the public has brought the conversation surrounding the importance of mental health to new light. More and more people are coming out with their stories of struggling with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, etc. And, consequently, more people feel like they have a better understanding of these illnesses because of these raw, personal accounts. But there is a difference between understanding and being aware.
As someone who has struggled with Major Depressive Disorder (clinical depression) and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) since being diagnosed in the seventh grade, I find myself trying to hide these parts of myself more so than ever; partially because, even after all these years, I still feel scared of the stigma and partially because I'm tired of people telling me they "get it." Because I honestly don't think they do and, to be fair, I don't think I can confidently tell someone else "I understand." Because I don't. Everyone is unique, as are our experiences, which is magnificent but simultaneously has the ability to make a person feel incredibly isolated.
In the past few months, my depression has been worse than it has in a long time, but over time I've managed to create an image for myself as "the happy friend." We all have that friend, the one that's always upbeat and smiling. Someone at work said that I was so energetic I reminded him of a bunny (however, I prefer otter). But what people don't see is the daily battle to get out of bed or when I buried my face in a pillow when I would wake up in the middle of the night crying so I didn't wake up my roommate. No one sees when I turn down plans because I feel like I'll do something to mess everything up. No one sees when I sneak away to take away my medication when my phone alarm goes off.
Sometimes I let my mind wander into an oblivion and find myself asking, "Is this worth it? Is this what my life is going to be like?"
Depression is a monster that engulfs the deepest parts of yourself. When you're playing tug-of-war between medications, it's saying "you will never win." When you yearn to be a part of something you once loved, it barks, "they don't want you." When all you want to do is overcome, it laughs in your face.
When your body fights to move forward, your mind asks, "why?"
And finally, I have an answer: because you are so incredibly worth it.
So, hear me out. If you know someone who is struggling with mental illness, don't pretend to know what they're going through. Have patience, be supportive. Never underestimate the power an open ear has.
And if you're struggling with mental illness, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Your feelings are valid. No matter how isolated you feel, you are not alone. You are not your diagnosis. You are not the little voice in the back of your head belittling you and questioning your worth. If you want to share your experience, share. If you aren't ready, that's okay.
At the end of the day, every breath you take is a shot fired. Every morning you wake up is a battle you have won.
Keep winning, because so far, that's what you've done.
