The year is 2005. I’ve just started high school. I was accepted into an accelerated program at a school in a different neighborhood than my own. I don’t know anyone there. I have no friends.
Even if you have the most beautiful and perfect day, you can’t help but pinpoint that tiny thing that happened that made it go awry. No matter how happy you are, or how much you have gotten done, you still stress over every little detail in your life that isn’t perfect or good enough for you.
Thousands of versions of me have littered the passage of my life as I shed skin after skin, lesson after lesson to become the person I honestly can say I am proud of.
People hid things about themselves because they are paralyzed at the prospect of hearing judgment, because they don’t have the tools to heal, because they don’t know such tools exist, because they are cowed into accepting mistreatment.
Stop worrying about seeming selfish, and do what you need to do to heal. Remember, no one can heal you but yourself.
Get used to the apologies. Get used to the mental or emotional exhaustion after any form of expression relating to their abuse.
Treating mental illnesses as seriously as we do other illnesses is one step towards ending the stigma.
But the truth is, it takes strength to admit you’re not okay. It takes a lot of courage to talk about what’s going on inside your head. The problem is admitting you’re not okay can make some people uncomfortable and people disconnect themselves from things that make them uncomfortable, unless they truly care.
You become more isolated than ever while continuously telling yourself that you’re okay. Better days are ahead. Yet, you’re not sure how far ahead those days are. And how long you can keep living this way for a day that may never come.
Instead of seeing it as a threat or something that I need to run from, I see it as a necessary stimulus for my growth. Something that I need to endure to become more mentally resilient. And it works.