Have you ever had the instance of being deep underwater for too long so that when you are making your way to the surface you feel your lungs wrenching for air, and the threat of drowning and disappearing into the depths of the water feels so overwhelmingly real?

That's how depression and anxiety feel sometimes.

The air is there, just above the surface, but you can’t see it. You didn’t put goggles on this time, so you can’t see which way up is. Your sense of sound is cut off, instead replaced with a tunnelled hum, a space that echoes and destroys sound at the same time. In the moment of realization that you could actually die, it’s a binary reaction. You feel terrified that you don’t remember what air tastes like, yet relieved that you won’t have to remember the mechanics of swimming.

But then, the air hits your face. You take a breath so deep that it feels like your constricted lungs could burst. You gasp for air, a taste that reminds you of a time when emptiness wasn’t filling your core when your soul was a home for laughter, wholeness, contempt.

Vulnerability to me is being open in a sense that all of your flaws and weaknesses—the things that make us human—are visible. That is, they are on display and no longer hidden within the confined vastness of the mind.

I believe that there is a sort of societal expectation put on us as humans that if we don’t look all put together, then something is wrong. Not being OK is taboo. Having problems that need to be dealt with is unheard of. Mental illness isn’t something that we should talk about.

I’m here to tell you that we should talk about it! In the National Vital Statistics Report from the CDC published in 2014, suicide was the second leading cause of death within people ages 10-24. The numbers are right there, and yet we, as a society, choose not to talk about it. We choose to ignore the fact that teenagers are dying, our peers think that the only answer is to take their own lives. I think by creating a conversation about mental illness and sharing our own stories about depression and anxiety, we can make a change for the better.

So, I have chosen to make myself vulnerable. Few people know about the issues that I face, or that I have been plagued with dark, vicious thoughts. There have been three times in my life that have been extremely trialing periods. When I was 15, I was lost and felt as if death was the only thing that could help me escape the world I had trouble navigating at the time. I was going to an acting camp in New York, and it was my plan to commit suicide while there, away from my family and friends. Once in New York, however, I felt a light within me that turned on, and I knew it wasn’t time. I had a glimpse of a life that I hoped could be mine one day, and that is what got me through. I found a goal to shoot for and felt as if I could somehow push through.

At 19, I would come home from my summer job every day and cry, overwhelmed with a feeling I didn’t understand. When school started up again, I would come home from class just to melt into my bed in tears, wishing with every ounce of my being that I could stop hurting. I would call my mom, sobbing, not understanding why I always felt such a deep sadness about everything and nothing at the same time. I saw the light that was my goal dying, and terrified of slipping into suicidal thoughts again, I got out of my bed and I launched myself into something that would busy me. I thought that if I was busy, then the thoughts would stop. They subsided, but only for about another year.

At 20, I went through some rough times with my family. I lost two grandparents within a month of each other, and I tried to stay strong for everyone else. That wears on you quickly though, and that’s when I started having panic attacks. It launched what came to be about a year of utter despair. I reached a point in which I wanted to give up. My way of asking for help was by verbally saying suicidal statements, and people thought I was joking, not realizing that it was my cry for help. In that period though, I found that I stopped caring what people thought about me. And this empowered me. I realized that in the grand scheme of things, I should just try to be me—to be unapologetically me.

I’m still working through all of it. I take it one day at a time. Through this journey, I have found strength in being vulnerable. I have cried more times at work this year than I can count, and I have cried in front of my professors. I have said things that I have regretted, and I have pushed outside my comfort zone in attempts to feel something. I don’t have all the answers, but I have my voice. And in that—in helping others find their voices—I find that I am louder than the thoughts.

Be louder than the thoughts, friends.

If you’re thinking about hurting yourself please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or visit suicidepreventionhotline.org to live chat with someone. Help is out there and you are not alone.