But it is far from easy.
It’s the secret we all share when it comes to family and friendships. Someone knows someone who knows someone with a mental illness.
There are two ways to live with sadness: let it hold you down at night, crawl with you in your bed and envelops you in its warm but dark embrace then let it push you up in the morning as you crawl out of bed and live your life.
And you’ll catch them in little moments, where they just whisper thank you under their breath and you won’t think much of it.
The truth is there isn’t a love deep enough to save me from myself. But it’s that love which gives me hope.
I think despite depression the choice I make is not letting it define me. I think concealed depression comes with it resilience and ability to fight back. It’s not about hiding who you are, it’s about accepting it and learning to thrive in moments when you might be your own worst enemy. It’s about learning how to get back up every time you fall.
We are girls with anxiety whose favorite word is I’m sorry.
It taught me about compassion and understanding and vulnerability. That these really horrible things connected me to so many others because I was brave enough to talk about it and write about it.
Sometimes I feel like I have to be the strong one, the dependable one, the one who has it all together, most if not all of the time, and other times I really just want to scream at the top of my lungs, “I STRUGGLE TOO.”