Tell me 101 things you love about me and I will only remember the one that you hate. I dwell and obsess on the one negative comment until at times, I make myself sick. When I feel sadness, I feel it in every bone in my body, but I didn’t choose to have a mental illness.
I take what you said, and I turn it into a monster of my darkest beliefs. My brain works hard to defeat me, but I didn’t choose to have a mental illness.
My self-hatred can be intense
My brain has a funny way of doing things; you can say something that doesn’t even hold much significance, but my brain will twist it to make sure that it does, because the honest truth is that I will hate myself more than you ever could. I don’t say this in self-pity. I am aware that my own self-hatred can be intense at times, and I have learned to understand this. Depression wraps itself around my ankles and doesn’t give out until I sink.
When you tell me that there is something you deem negative about me- not so much the materialistic things or the parts of my skin that I cannot change, but the deeper parts of me, like my mind and character- I will take what you have said, and I will turn it into a monster of my darkest beliefs.
I had someone tell me that I was an “entitled bitch”
After releasing a blog post not too long ago, I had someone tell me that I was an “entitled bitch” who “couldn’t possibly deal with depression” since I had such an “easy life.” There is still an assumption that depression can’t exist in a person who grew up in a good family with people who constantly love and support them. Ignorance still lies in the idea that I can’t be depressed because I have had good things come to me and have perhaps what some people would call an ‘easy life.” This is no indication of what I feel and you definitely don’t get to tell me that my feelings are invalid because of what you see from the outside looking in. These are MY demons. This is MY battle. This is MY mental illness.
Trust me, I get it. How could someone who has it all feel like she has nothing and no one at all? The answer is simple: I didn’t choose to have a mental illness.
I didn’t choose to have a mental illness
Everyone has experienced hurt by others in some way, shape, or form, and in this day and age, we have much more than just verbal slander to deal with. The only difference in you and me is that my brain works just a little bit harder to defeat me.
A brain that is constantly battling depression and anxiety disorder is a brain that is exhausted. It is a brain that takes a thought – big or small – and distorts it into a hideous creature. My brain goes through life looking into a fun mirror, not having the ability to see that it is just a warped perception of the reality.
I am stronger than I was before, but I am also human; I’m not invincible. I didn’t choose to have a mental illness, but I will choose how I live with it.
Reproduced with permission, originally published here: https://welcometomyteenagebrain.wordpress.com/blog/