When you’re suffering from mental illness or struggling from mental issues, it’s easy to think you’re the only one in the world who feels the way that you feel. I know because I do that. I’ve done that. There’s something about the human condition that forces us to keep the negative in our lives bottled up, eating away at our happiness, little by little, day after day.
I don’t understand it.
This past week has been eye opening for me in that I’ve been able to realize I’m not alone. Both my best friend and my sister have mentioned to me they take medication for anxiety.
I know that it’s incredibly naive of me to say that I thought I was the only one, but that’s how I thought. I thought I was the only one. I was hard-wired to believe that I was the only one who couldn’t handle it. ‘IT’ being the proverbial shit-storm that’s been running through my head.
I’m not alone, though. I’m not. And while I don’t like thinking about the people in my life struggling in a way that I understand all too well, it makes me feel better to know that I’m not alone, and, that we can talk about it. We can talk about it.
And being able to talk about it make’s me feel a little bit more like it’s not winning. Like it’s not going to get the best of me. Like there’s room to fight back.