I suppose that if I want to write about mental health and awareness then I should go into my own mental head space a tad. Don’t worry, I won’t be giving you every excruciating detail of the fun that is learning you have a mental illness. This is more of a brief summary.
I always thought I had depression and anxiety throughout high school but had never talked to anyone or been diagnosed. During my year at college, my depression seemed to worsen until I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, and I definitely wasn’t going to any of my classes. While I was used to what it felt like to be depressed, I started to experience things I never had before. I noticed quiet whispers in my ears when no one was around. Dark, blurry figures would dance around the corners of my eyes. I began having strange thoughts about people trying to “get” me. When I eventually dropped out towards the end of the semester and returned to living with my parents, I told them nothing about what was going on. I got a job, I tried to get through each day, and pretended like nothing was wrong.
Of course, that never works.
My parents eventually found out, which was not my decision but that is a story for another day, and decided to take me to the ER. I was hospitalized for six days and diagnosed with major depressive disorder with psychotic features, generalized anxiety, and PTSD. Life after a diagnosis is confusing. I was ashamed of my own brain and I didn’t really tell a lot of people. It is something that I’ve struggled to accept about myself since then and it’s something I’ll struggle with for the rest of my life. I have a long way to go, but I know that I’ve worked hard to get to where I’m at.
Although it’s the extremely shortened version of the story, you got all the big pieces of information. Along the way I’ll probably sprinkle in some more details, but that’s all you get for now!