I’m tired. I’m just so tired. I’ve been fighting this battle for what feels like ages and I’m so tired. It’s incredibly tough waking up and getting out of bed each morning. Not enough people give credit to that. There’s no cheering section, no one rooting you on when the alarm goes off, and it takes everything you’ve got to kick the covers back and plant your feet on the ground.

But that’s a major component of the battle -- fighting it alone. Mental illnesses, like anxiety and depression, are all within you. No one else can see the pain, and try as they might no one will fully understand -- not even the doctors, the therapists, the psychiatrists. All this baggage, all this weight, it becomes so heavy. It tires me out.

So when I come to you complaining of my tiredness, complaining that the weight is starting to become unbearable, don’t try to understand. Don’t tell me you know how I feel. Don’t tell me you’ll help me cure the illness or fight the battle. This is something I have to fight alone.

Instead cheer for me, root me on. Tell me it’s good to see me. Tell me you’re proud of me. Tell me you know I can keep going. Cause that’s what I need. I need you to be my cheering squad telling me to keep going, no matter how tired I may get.