This last few years, I have reached my lowest and worked my way back up again. I've gone from pretending I don't exist to feeling like and I can accomplish anything, I have been diagnosed with depression, I've been medicated, I've gone through an environmental and emotional overhaul and I've started again.
The most difficult part of it was asking for help. Not because I didn't think I needed it, but because I was scared about telling people, about telling anyone that there was this thing inside of me, this thing that was eating away at any happiness - any emotion that I had in the world. I wasn't scared that they'd feel bad for me, I was scared that people wouldn't believe me. I wasn't afraid of pity, I was afraid of being discredited. Of being something and having something shameful. Of being told that my illness wasn't an illness and that I just needed to try harder.
I'm disappointed that my biggest fear was asking for help. The majority of my friends were the most supportive people I could ever have hoped for. But there were a few people, there are always a few people, who live up to a fear. I had - and still struggle with - a legitimate illness that will always form a part of me, and there were some people who told me that maybe if I stopped talking about it, and tried harder, it would just go away. I'd like to see anyone say that to someone who is physically ill.
The stigmatisation of mental illness is something that has always bothered me. Partly because I have depression, and partly because I know, without a shadow of a doubt that it's wrong. It's wrong to joke about people who are sick. It's wrong to think that mental illness isn't serious and that it's something you can think your way out of. It's wrong to assume that you understand someone else's situation because you've felt a bit sad once.
There are varying degrees of mental illness, just as there are varying degrees of injury, of physical sickness. Telling someone that what they're going through isn't real doesn't make them better. I hope that at some point, people start realising that. I had everything that I needed at the time I was diagnosed. Trying to appreciate it made me feel guilty for not being able to appreciate it. I was incapable of being happy.
Having a battle with yourself every morning as to whether you should bother facing the day, seeing other people, going to work, to school, just getting up, wondering whether it's worth trying anymore is not something that should be made light of. This is the kind of thing that ruins friendships, relationships, jobs, lives. It is real, and it's horrible.
If you need help, don't be afraid to ask for it. I wasted a lot of time being scared, and I found out that I didn't need to be.
-AJ
