The past week for me has been filled with anxiety and depression. I’ve laid in bed, crying and shaking till I fall asleep, trying to silence my gasps for air because “I’m strong.” I’ve had my mind race from one part of my head to the next and it felt like I had just won a marathon for even getting out of bed. I kept looking through Instagram and Facebook, viewing perfect lives while I couldn’t even be productive. It’s been another low point.
Even in my haze of depression, I stumbled online and came across a post about mental health. This one writer wrote exactly what she was going through and what her mental illness looks like. I admired her braveness, but was sick just thinking about how others would see me. People would know my insecurities, my vulnerabilities, how alone I felt. We live in a world where mental illness is still so taboo and there’s stereotypes cast upon those with it. But it also reminded me how everyone is dealing with something. We each suffer in our own way. But we don’t have to suffer alone.
It’s made me want to take this post and talk about what my mental illness looks like. Maybe you see similarities or total opposites, but I hope you remember that you’re not the only one going through this.
Mine looks like, well, me. Someone with blue/green eyes, short. Someone who came from a background of divorce, but no other trauma. I first remember being 13 or 14 years old, when I’m supposed to be out with friends constantly, wanting independence, but instead it was me laying in bed. I kept up my excuse as “I’m just tired.” It’s accompanied by the constant stream of tears and staring at walls for hours on end with a blank mind. It’s being tangled in anxiety that you’re gasping for air, literally and figuratively. It’s staying frozen in one place during a panic attack, shaking and trying to breathe. It’s having these episodes over school, people or just life in general just because. This vulnerable and raw and delicate being when you’re supposed to be lively and fun. It’s questioning your existence and numbing yourself any way possible. It’s the life taken right in front of you, even if you thought you could handle it all. It’s wanting to continually fight through and think positive about and be okay, but it’s not like that, it’s not that simple.
There’s happiness sometimes though. No more sad feelings, so let’s celebrate! Enjoy life with friends, stay up all night, going to parties. Let’s talk to everyone because “I feel so good!” I buy unneeded things and become irritated at the slightest thing, which starts screaming brawls up against the innocent and ends with holes in wall. It’s the cheap, fun ankle tattoo that you try to hide. It’s reckless, fun and maybe hazardous.
Your people may not deal with it, but they’re there even when you’re undeserving. They keep you walking, talking, alive. There’s therapy, medication and other healthy coping technique, thank God. It all works together to keep you from crashing into a deeper hole. I’ve learn so much from these complex diseases. I didn’t know how strong I actually was. I also realized that mental illness is real and prominent no matter who you are, where you come from, anything. It doesn’t discriminate.
So what is it like in that dark part of your mind that no one wants us to talk about? What do you feel when you’re alone? What does your mental illness look like?
