For years, I told myself and everyone asked a complete lie. When asked, "Are you okay?" I responded with, "Yeah, I'm fine."
This was anything but the truth. Maybe on the outside, I looked fine, but the inside was a different story. I was a shattered person. In that time, I often compared myself to a porcelain doll that had been dropped way too many times.
I tried to keep myself together. I didn't want to be a burden to others. I was too selfless of a person to put myself before what others needed first. I spent probably way too many nights crying myself asleep at night. I felt that I was alone that the world was weighing down on my shoulders.
Everything I did was bugging others.
No one actually cared about me like that said they did. Secretly, they were annoyed by me and just wanted me to go away. I didn't want to be on this planet anymore. Why wasn't I good enough? Was I the only person feeling this way? These were the type of thoughts that haunted me all day, mostly at night.
It started when I was in seventh grade. I kept it to myself for the most part though. It wasn't until I was a senior in high school that I couldn't hold it in anymore. I finally got help. I was officially diagnosed with depression and anxiety.
I'd love to tell you I got on medicine and had some therapy then everything was perfectly fine. I wish that were true. That was just the beginning.
Yes, I went to therapy and got on meds (I'm on my fourth completely different medicines), but that's not always enough. I've had to find my own ways to cope. I journal a lot. I've taken up yoga and meditation. I've tried mental health-focused apps. I'm always looking for new things that can help calm my thoughts. I'm still on my journey of getting fully better.
My dark days are still there. I have bad thoughts. Getting out of bed in the morning can be a challenge. My anxiety and depression still control aspects of my life.
But you know what, I've accepted it. I use to hate uttering the words that I had depression or anxiety. I felt that it changed people's view of me. Now, I wouldn't say I'm proud to say it, but I'm more open about it. I'm an advocate for mental health, which before was something I never really thought was that important before. Yes, I'm not perfectly mentally, but I'm dealing with it.
I'm still standing here. I get up and go to class. I work. I am a part of a bunch of different organizations. I live my life. I do have my relapses and sometimes, those moments stop me from living my life, but I keep going. I've accepted the fact I'm not fine, but you know one day I'll get there.