It's 2:38 in the afternoon and my day is barely getting started. I've spent the last 6 hours moving from my bed, to the couch, into the kitchen long enough to feed Sophie, back to my bed, into the bathroom to Shower, and back to the couch. You may think it sounds like a daydream of a day, but to me, it feels like I've just finished running a marathon I wasn't prepared for.

My body is heavy. My legs and back ache so badly at times, it often feels as though I'm unable to carry my own weight. Sometimes it takes me ten minutes just to muster up enough energy to roll over in my bed when I'm laying down. When my alarm goes off in the mornings, I press the snooze button at least 3 times. The only thing that gets me out of bed is the fact that I know I have to take care of Sophie, not that I have to go to work and interact with other humans.

No amount of sleep ever takes away from the feeling of pure exhaustion, so the fact that I have myself on a strict schedule throughout the week to ensure that I'm in bed by 9:00, really makes no difference in the grand scheme of things.

Sometimes I think about the struggles of the past few years and I breakdown.
Sometimes I cry for absolutely no reason at all.
Sometimes I feel absolutely nothing at all.
Sometimes I feel absolutely everything.
Most of the time, I choose to remain numb to anything that could awaken my emotions because that's easier than trying to get them back to rest.

A large part of me often feels like a tick, feeding on my loved ones' happiness when they ask me how I'm doing and I answer honestly. I don't want to dim the shine of their light with my darkness, so my usual response is "I'm fine" (even though they and I both know it's not the truth). Alas, I decline most offers to do anything that doesn't consist of sitting in my apartment and waiting for the day to end. All I want to do most days is go to sleep long enough to forget that I have to wake up the next day and go through it all over again.

I look in the mirror and I literally have no idea who I'm looking at. Seriously. So many times in my life, I've tried to say it felt like I couldn't recognize myself whenever I was going through a rough time. But now? Today? Standing there looking at the girl in the mirror, I truly have no idea who she is.

I look at old photos of the girl I do recognize, but when I go back to the mirror and try to find her, everything looks completely different–despite being the same. The light that used to be there is just lost somewhere behind all the fog.

1. Depression is hard.
2. Depression coupled with anxiety and panic is harder.
3. Hiding depression behind the mask of denial is easy.
4. Trying to remove the mask of denial once it has been accepted as a part of you is…well, most times it just feels impossible.

This is me, right now. This is the honest, raw, and 100% open truth about who I am today. My struggle with depression is something that affects me on a daily basis and I've finally reached a point in my life where I know and recognize that this girl I spend so much time studying in the mirror is nothing more than an unwelcome guest I've somehow managed to let stick around for far too long.

I'm here to tell you that your mental health is important. I daresay it's the most important thing to be mindful of in your life because it's responsible for directing your thoughts, movements, words, and actions. I'm here to tell you that you aren't crazy if you're feeling like something is just "off" and you can't put a finger on it. I'm here to tell you that you CANNOT continue to bury the bad stuff because eventually, it's going to make its way to the surface. I'm here to tell you that it is 100% okay to receive cognitive behavioral therapy, and I'm also here to tell you that it is 100% okay to be open about it.

What's not okay?

Accepting the mask of denial.
Feeling ashamed if you have been plagued with the struggle.
Believing that you're alone because you genuinely believe that no one cares.

Someone always cares.
You always matter.

Believe me when I say that I know how hard it is to believe these things. I know because I'm struggling to believe them myself most days. But you know what? Every single time I start to really believe I'm alone, someone or something always happens to remind me that I'm not. I can't promise you that it's going to be all of the people that you'd expect or need, but there will always be someone.

I'm writing this post today in hope that I can be that "someone" or "something" for you, for a friend, for anyone who just really needs to be reminded that (1) you can't give up, and (2) you aren't alone.