I’m taking a break from finishing my very delayed Iceland posts for this one. I have never ever had seasonal depression until this winter. It’s been SO hard to keep motivated during the cold and snowy days. Insert shrug emoji here.
I’ve written, rewritten, erased and deleted this post many times over the last two weeks because I simply just don’t know what to say. I guess this is more of a self motivation post, rather than a fun one.
Here goes nothing.
Depression, self harm, mental health awareness. Project Semicolon.
I was told there was something wrong with me in sixth grade. Sixth grade. I was twelve years old. I didn’t know what love was. I didn’t know what heartbreak was. I didn’t know where I’d go to college, or what I’d even major in. I didn’t know what kind of job I would have when I grew up. I knew one thing – that I was damaged and for some reason, that was wrong.
Depression and self harm is such a taboo subject. If we don’t talk about it, is it even real? Are we admitting we have faults if we admit to depression? Are we worried about what others will think of us if we openly talk about it? Are we afraid that people will walk on eggshells around us because they don’t want to say the wrong thing and set us off?
Two weeks ago, on the two year anniversary of our friendship, my best friend and I got matching tattoos.
Most people will never understand it. They won’t understand me – how I act sometimes or why I do things a certain way. But, she will always understand it. She gets me. She knows when I’m upset, even without me telling her. She knows if there’s something wrong by the way I say “hi” when I walk in the door, or if I spend a little extra time in bed in the morning. She’s my person.
I’m ready to stand up, and say I’m not different because I have depression, and I’m not ashamed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Time after time, I’ve felt that I had to hide it – from my friends, my parents, my coworkers, and strangers. But, am I really being myself if I hide it? Do people actually know the real me?
I rethink and overthink and don’t think enough sometimes. Are my friends going to treat me differently? Are my parents going to watch my every step to make sure I’m not harming myself? Am I going to be a different person if I’m open about it?
But the truth is, I don’t really think it matters how other people see me. I am who I am. I’m working to improve myself everyday, and that’s what matters.
Boom. End rant. I should be good to go for the next year, yeah?