Magnum Opus

ofcourseitsmyhead:

Kristen Bell is one of the most recent stars to push past stigma and declare her depression and anxiety worth talking about.

And for that, I am thrilled.

It means that once again, there is another person, who seems so ‘normal,’ finally showcasing that, HELLO THERE, this is a real thing. And it knows no boundaries.

“Here’s the thing: For me, depression is not sadness. It’s not having a bad day and needing a hug. It gave me a complete and utter sense of isolation and loneliness. Its debilitation was all-consuming, and it shut down my mental circuit board. I felt worthless, like I had nothing to offer, like I was a failure. Now, after seeking help, I can see that those thoughts, of course, couldn’t have been more wrong. It’s important for me to be candid about this so people in a similar situation can realize that they are not worthless and that they do have something to offer. We all do.”

As a person who has had mental health issues for quite some time, diagnosed or not, I can basically agree 100% with this. And I wish, I wish, with all my might, that between her efforts and mine, and the efforts of all those other anxious or depressed souls out there, we can finally feel alive.

I want the anxious Plain Janes with no ‘big’ accomplishments to stand up with me, and say ‘I’m still here despite it all.’

I want the hard-working and depressed people to stand up with us, and declare ‘This isn’t shameful.’

I want my bipolar friends who fight internal demons to rally and shout ‘We’re people, too.’

I want my schizophrenic sisters and brothers to get together and yell from the rooftops that ‘We’re MORE than medication.’

Because we are.

We are MORE than this. We are MORE than medication, therapy, and doctor’s visits.

If you know a person in your life with a mental illness (I guarantee you do,) I want you to challenge yourself. Don’t get overwhelmed, but spend some time with them. Get to know their demons, and what they fight with every day. The things that make them struggle. The thoughts they have against their own selves.

I know from personal experience that just going to a counsellor doesn’t cut it. I need time to process my feelings, work through them, and count my victories. Sometimes that means someone points them out for me. Sometimes that means someone has to tell me over a dozen times a day that I am special. That I am okay. That I am loved, wanted, insert-positive-adjective-here. Sometimes that means that I need to just tell someone, anyone, that despite it all, it’s hard to live. I feel lonely. I feel afraid. I feel weak.

I can’t even hold back the tears coming down my face anymore. I’m so scared. But I’m doing this anyway, like I’ve done for the past year or more. (When did I start this, again?)

I am done hiding. I don’t want to hide anymore. If you still need space, though, take it. I’ll be a sounding board for anyone who’s struggling, because I’ve been there. I might not know how your story is going, but I will be a post to lean on if you need me.

We’re in this together, no matter how alone we feel.