It seems as if more frequently, words like “depression,” “anxiety,” “OCD,” “bipolar” are seemingly pulled from a proverbial hat to describe one’s fleeting moments of sadness.
To quote the famous Hannah Montana, “everybody has those days.”
It’s true.
There is not one person who walks around every day as if everything around them is perfect. But fewer people actually walk around that experience the true meaning of what it means to struggle with mental health. I don’t ever want to discount another person’s feelings, but having a day or two feeling down is normal.
Being upset because your partner broke up with you is okay. You should take the time to process your feelings. Feel every sense of emotion that comes over you.
But when days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months and that initial feeling of emptiness just doesn’t go away, that’s living with depression.
That’s living with anxiety.
I wish I could use words frivolously like some of my peers to come across as relatable. As if living that Tumblr lifestyle of hating the world is anything less than desirable.
I can’t pinpoint a time when I started realizing I struggled with anxiety (that’s more or less where my depression stems from). Yet, the part that scares me is never knowing what living without it feels like.
For me, living with anxiety feels like your heart is constantly and consistently beating at a pace as if you were running in a race, except you never reach the finish line.
It’s like having to mentally prepare yourself to do anything.
It’s not going out because you have zero control over your environment or situation.
It’s lying awake at night over analyzing everything that happened during your day.
It’s taking every word said to you, every action done around you, personal.
It’s thinking your closest friends don’t like you, for whatever reason.
It’s never knowing where you stand with people.
It’s not wanting to leave your comfort zone even though you desperately want to.
And you know you need to.
It’s something that causes you intense amounts of stress that literally makes you sick.
It’s doctors telling you “nothing is wrong, you’re doing this to yourself.” That’s the worst part. YOU are doing this.
YOU.
Your brain for whatever reason makes you like this. Sure, you have your vices. Those wonderful things in your life that give you that feeling I’m sure most people feel, daily. Calmness.
Content.
Happiness.
Whatever that is.
You just try to enjoy it for as long as you can because you know they are truly just moments.
Moments before your leg is constantly bouncing up and down again, and you begin to twirl your ring around your finger again and you start to pull at your hair again.
But “just be positive.”
okay…
HCXOXO,
Imani Taylor