Mental Health
My depression isn’t content—it’s my reality. And while I don’t always want to put it on display, I also don’t want to pretend it doesn’t exist.
Looking back, I know I’ve had severe anxiety my entire life. As a kid, I didn’t have the words for it—I just knew that sometimes I felt so overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts that I couldn’t function. I remember in sixth grade, having just taken a test, and knowing I did awful on so I pretended to be sick so I could go home and lay in bed. The same thing happened before big sports games, or my classmates birthday parties.
There were times when I felt so overwhelmed that I would lock myself in small, dark spaces just to cry. A few times, my parents found me like that, and I could tell it scared them. To be honest, I scared myself too. I thought about the worst, but I never acted on it. Thinking about the pain it would cause the people around me always kept me considering it.
It wasn’t until after high school that I was officially diagnosed. Freshman year of college, my anxiety got so bad that I started skipping classes. Large lecture halls made me unbelievably uncomfortable, so instead of going inside, I would leave my dorm and go sit in my car until class was over.
When I finally saw a doctor and took the tests, she told me I fell into the category of having severe anxiety and depression. I wasn’t surprised. I was relieved. It made me realize I wasn’t just crazy or messed up—there was a reason I felt this way and it was because there was a chemical imbalance in my brain.
Getting diagnosed and starting medication changed everything. Suddenly, I could do things I avoided for years. I could go to movie theaters again. I started listening to music in the car instead of sitting in silence, stuck in my thoughts. I felt like myself again.
That doesn’t mean I don’t still struggle. Sometimes, I stop taking my meds, even when I know I shouldn’t. It’s like my depression wants me to lean into it. Then I spiral for a week or two before I get back on track. It’s a cycle, but I know how to manage it now.
Lately, I’ve been in a weird space. I feel this pressure to only share the beautiful, happy, motivating moments because that’s what people want to see and engage with. But the truth is, that’s not always how I feel.
2025 has been tough, but I keep reminding myself that nothing stays the same forever. Even when it’s hard, I know things will get better. If you’re struggling, know that you’re not alone. Mental health isn’t always pretty or easy to talk about, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real. No feeling lasts forever, and even when it feels impossible, things can and will get better.