Not everyone gets to live in peace.

There are some people that battle civil wars in their head daily, and I am one of them. When I was fifteen years old, I was diagnosed with depression and then a few years down the line I was diagnosed with several anxiety disorders that require medication. To this day, there are still so many people that do not know about my condition and many that have a hard time believing that I even suffer at all. It’s 2016 and people still, believe that depression means you never get out of bed and you cry all the time. Surely mental illness affects everyone differently, but something to be aware of is that it’s a lot more than tears and bed rest.

For me, my depression does make it hard for me to get out of bed every morning. Unfortunately, it also makes it difficult for me to sleep through the night. My bed is my safe space, but even when I’m wrapped up in a blanket burrito in my Snoopy pajamas, my thoughts still get to me. I am always tired, but at the same time, I’m too energized by anxieties to nap as frequently as I would like to. When I talk with my friends I laugh, I smile, and I carry on a conversation with them. Just because I’m depressed doesn’t mean I am always down and frowning. I don’t even frown often at all. I can understand why my friends have difficulty understanding my situation because I lead a relatively normal and healthy life. I can function in society without my mental illness showing on my sleeve.

However, just because it isn’t showing doesn’t mean that it isn’t there.

There are days where I’ll come home from school or work and just get into bed. I turn my phone off, shut everything down, and sleep. These days are not as frequent as they once were, but they still happen, and it’s terrible for my loved ones and me. I try to be as outgoing as I can be, but socializing is exhausting. Being in crowded bars and closed environments freak me out. I do it anyway, though. I am a people pleaser, so I do my best to be spontaneous and outgoing, which are both things that I am not. If I'm completely honest, it all feels like a chore to me. I get the little enjoyment out of it, I am not so enthusiastic when making plans, and I never want the responsibility of picking out what to do because I honestly do not want to do anything at all.

Mental illness is a tricky subject, to begin with, but when it comes to high-functioning depression and anxiety, it’s like comparing the wires behind your computer or behind your TV. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s a mess. I am a mess. People always compliment me on how well I have my life put together, but in reality, I would rather curl up in a ball somewhere and not think about the fact that I graduate in a year. I look like I have it all put together, but on the inside, I feel like a once complete puzzle that has been broken up into pieces. I don’t have it all together, and I do not feel whole as a person, which is horrifying.

I am an overachiever to the point where it makes me sick. I push myself until I physically and emotionally cannot go any further. I run myself into the ground, and I do it rapidly. I beat myself up quite a bit as well. I cannot handle being wrong; it’s like sticking a fork into my brain and shocking my heart. I get all sorts of emotional when I know I’m wrong. I blame myself for everything, too. When things go wrong at work, it had to have been me. I do poorly on an exam; I didn’t prepare hard enough, and I am the worst student ever. My self-esteem is not great at all, and a lot if not most of that stems from the depression. It’s honestly really scary to know how much of a mess I truly am, and it’s been incredibly difficult for me to open up about it. I had to.

In college, I hear the phrase “fake it until you make it” quite a bit, and it hits me harder each time I do hear it. I am faking it, and I am sort of, kind of, stumbling to make it. I am the only one that seems to notice how horribly I appear to be struggling. That’s the scariest part of being high functioning. Unless you talk about it, no one notices. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? How crazy it is that I could be sitting at your lunch table laughing and joking with you, and an hour later I can take my life?

Questions like that are the reason why we need more education on mental health because I didn’t know what high-functioning depression was until it consumed me. People lose their loved ones on a daily basis, and they cry out to the heavens as to why and how it can happen to them, little do they realize that it isn’t just suicide that is claiming the lives of innocent souls. It’s the lack of education in our society. If you are someone that also suffers from high-functioning depression, I so strongly encourage you to reach out to someone, anyone. The first step is always accepting the circumstances as they are, then you begin to realize the severity of the situation. Your feelings are valid, and people do care about you.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: Call 1-800-273-8255

Available 24 hours every day