I have never publicly shared my mental illness with the amount of people I am right now, in fear that I will be judged by others, in fear that my family will be embarrassed, and in fear that I will turn people away from me. Everyone has a part of their story that they're afraid to read out loud. But, if it helps one person- then it was worth it. I was diagnosed with depression at a very young age. To be honest- I don't know life without it. I have been on numerous anti-depressants, sat through hours of therapy treatments, made thousands of attempts to be "normal" and "happy" like the people in my life seem to be, completed genetic testing in hopes of some sort of magical answer, and I am currently going through neuromodulation treatments each week.
Depression means something different for everyone. Some people say depression for them is being extremely unhappy, blue, and hopeless. Others say it is the inability to feel anything at all. Depression is an illness that creates a different impact on every person that has lived with it. Depression isn't temporary. It is not like a cold that you will soon get over, it is, in a way- cancer. Although someone might take medication to help them, it only suppresses the impact that it truly causes. It is a pain I, and many others, live with every. single. day.
Telling me or any other person battling depression to "just be happy instead" is naive. For those who live without mental illness, happiness is a choice. When you say this to someone who faces an illness, you are asking them to change something they cannot control. You might say, "well she smiles all the time and laughs and jokes, she's a cheerleader, she has friends," but not everyone shows their sadness. A lot of people are good at putting on a show; a show that I've put on for so long that it's pure instinct to put my smiley face on for the world to see. I pretend to smile, pretend to be happy, pretend to be okay. But the fact is, I'm not always okay. And I am done being ashamed of sharing it with others. It's something I am dealing with every day of my life. Why should I continue to hide it? It is perfectly okay to admit that you are not okay. Even in my best moments, it is still there. It's Christmas morning with your family, you're opening gifts with one another- but you feel completely empty. It's your birthday and you're surrounded by your favorite individuals- but you'd rather be curled up in a ball crying in your bed. It's spring break vacation with your best friends- but you still don't feel good enough. It's the playoffs, something your family has dreamed of forever- and you still feel as if you're drowning inside. Even in the happiest times, it is still lurking inside my head.
Depression may be a part of me, but it is not the whole me. I have good days and bad days. I have learned to rejoice again in small things and appreciate this beautiful life to the fullest, like rainy days, twitter posts about cute dogs, sunrises, or the simple smile of a stranger. I have spent the last several months focusing on bettering myself and opening up my heart to others. Accepting my illness, but refusing to let it take over my life was the bravest choice I've ever made. I am so focused on becoming stronger, and helping others face their own fears. My journey is not near over, and neither is yours.
"Be gentle with yourself, you're doing the best you can."
XOXO Kate
