When I was 7, I cried for 3 hours. I had no way of explaining it but I felt like I had a huge 'monster' in my chest. I now realize that it was my first depressive episode. I was also diagnosed with 3 types of learning disabilities by the time I was 11. I'd get teased by my 'friends' for being fat or because I couldn't spell properly.
I changed schools, but still didn't fit in. This continued until college, when I turned to alcohol. I'd sneak it in and drink the entire week. While drunk, I started self harming-I began cutting my thighs and hands. My mind told me that it's what I deserve; that I don't deserve help. It got so bad that I found myself on the ledge of my window one night, ready to jump. But something inside me stopped me. I withdrew and developed social anxiety.
I'd lock myself at home because I didn't have the courage to face people. Recently, I was talking to a coworker who asked me about my hands. I realized that my skin was peeling because I'd washed my hands 40 times. It was the last straw-I finally decided to seek help. My therapist suggested that I start by celebrating the little victories. So my first task was to just get myself to go to work for an entire week.
I rewarded myself with a face mask after. It felt silly at first, but over time, I started appreciating all those little things which became something bigger... I learnt to take care of myself. A few days later, I decided to tell my family about my illnesses. I didn't want to hold it in anymore.
I was afraid of what they'd say, but they were incredibly supportive. I realized that mental illnesses carry a huge stigma! And I wanted to change that -- to be part of the solution, not the problem.
I made an Instragram page called 'Greater Than 65' which spoke about mental health with some humor. The positive response I got after my 1st post was overwhelming. I had tears in my eyes. It's so real that it gets hard to write, but I've had those 'little victory' moments that push me.
Like a friend of mine, decided to seek help because of the page, after struggling for 2 years. I spent 19 out of 26 years convinced that I didn't deserve help, and if I could urge someone to seek help sooner -- it was worth it. It's been 8 months since I started therapy and I've been diagnosed with 6 disorders. I feel like it's a buy 1 get 5 free situation -- see humor again!
But seriously, I know that I'll always be a work in progress. But I understand 3 very important things now and you should too -- you deserve help, you deserve to be happy and you're never alone.
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