Living with my mental illnesses is like living my life inside a house of mirrors. I can see myself and the world around me, but nothing is quite right. Big important things are shrunken down, and small useless details become the center of focus. I can look back at myself and see that the way I am viewing things is distorted, but I still live in it.

Living with my depression is like living in a storm cloud. Everything is dark, and all of my senses are dulled because of the storm going on around me. There are flashes of light in my eyes, electricity that comes too close for comfort, thunder that shakes the ground, and rain that soaks me to the bone. I can't focus on anything else because it has completely taken over. I can see the world outside of the cloud, and that only makes it worse. No one else seems to be bothered by this storm, but to me, it consumes my whole life.

Living with my anxiety is like walking on a tightrope wire. Every step I take feels like it could be the last. Every single detail of the world around me is a threat, and the smallest thing could push me over the side. A gust of wind, a speck of dust, anything could be the end of me.

Living with my PTSD is like living with my hands tied behind my back. Everything feels too close, too fast, too loud, too much, because I can't defend myself from it. And just when I feel like I've found a strategy to cope with it, I am hit in the face with something I couldn't push away.

Living with my panic disorder is like standing in water up to my chest, with someone's hand on the back of my neck. Nothing ever seems okay, but at most times, technically, I am safe. But then the hand forces my head under the water. It is pitch black, my lungs are burning, and no amount of struggling can get me back above water. There is no life there, and it feels like I am dying every time. Eventually, I am released, but I live with the constant knowledge that, at any moment, I could be pushed under again.

Living with my OCD is like living with twenty voices inside of my head. Each one of them has a different rule that must be followed or else. 'Don't step on that, don't eat that, count this again, tap on this six more times, walk this way, say that again, don't say anything, breathe this way, wash that away...' It never ends because at least one of the voices is always awake, and at least one is always mad.

Living with my psychosis is like living in the Twilight Zone, where you never know what is real and what isn't. But the camera still zooms in on that man walking behind me, and the scary music still plays, so it seems like there must be something wrong. Those shadows aren't actually there, but the focus is blurred so I can't really tell. And even if I know that nothing bad is actually going to happen, I can't help but be afraid because everything in the world is telling me to be.

Living with my eating disorder is like having an enemy that is always at my side. She is cruel and petty and convinces me that I am worth nothing more than the way I look. But her worst trick is convincing me that she is my friend. So I do listen to her, and I do love her, but in reality she is trying to kill me. Sometimes she falls asleep or stays quiet for a little while, but she is never gone.

Living with my mental illness is living with the fact that I know I will never be normal. I will never get out of the house of mirrors. Some of them might be clearer than others, some days might be easier to navigate, and sometimes I might have someone to help me along, but I'm still always there. There are no exits, just different paths. I only have to choose to keep walking.