Early on in life, I knew something was different about me from the other kids. I was only in 6th grade, my first year of middle school when depression and anxiety began to control and take over my life. I didn't understand why I had no energy, why I was so scared of people talking about me, why I literally only wanted to sleep and cry. I would find out about 2 years later that I was suffering from the mental illness that plagues approximately 1.5% of the U.S. population age 18 and older every year. During my freshman year of high school I would be bullied relentlessly when the other students noticed I was different.

I tried to hide it, I tried to fake smiles and laughter everyday, but it only made the depression worse and made my anxiety multiply. When I tried to open up about the change I was openly mocked and ridiculed. I got made fun of for the red lines on my wrists and upper arms, I got called emo, told to suck it up, and asked if I was gonna cry. Due to all of this, it took me another two years to feel not only comfortable with myself, but actually understand that I was not broken, nor was I crazy.

I learned that medication doesn't make me less than others, but rather gives me the ability to achieve the same quality of life as others. Depression is not a choice, it does not discriminate, it is something that is a part of us, whether we want to accept it or not. The thing is we have to overcome it. Let it not control us. There were many days I didn't want to wake up or even get out of bed. There was a time when feeling numb was the regular thing for me. I would wake up and just go through my day like a zombie.

When I finally came to terms with my depression and anxiety, life slowly began to get better. I no longer hated myself. I no longer blamed myself for being stupid, ugly, and unworthy of other peoples time. I now told myself that I was beautiful, that I was smart, that I was worth so much. I found a confidence I never knew was possible for me.

There is a stigma behind mental illness. People do not want to talk about it due to lack of education on these illnesses in main stream society. People assume that if you suffer, you need to do it quietly and on your own. This isn't true. This isn't what is needed. Support is the key to getting better. I was lucky to have a mother that understood and helped me overcome. I was lucky to find a therapist that understood me, and would listen, but also give it to me straight when I was losing myself again. Mental Illness doesn't mean you are less.

We as a community need to come together for all those who suffer from mental illnesses. We need to show that we are supportive of those around us who need our help. We need to step forward and put the stigma to rest. All people are worthy of the same quality of life. All people deserve to feel healthy and safe.