I’ve been struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts ever since I was in 6th grade. I can remember vividly times where I would come home crying, lay on my bed and just wonder how I could end my life. I felt ashamed that I was living with a mental illness. I saw the way some people were treated in my school for struggling with depression, and I tried and tried to hide it from everyone. I already got picked on enough because of my appearance and that I didn’t fit in with everyone else, I didn’t need to be picked on for depression as well. The amount of bullying I endured in my life drove me to start self-harming. I felt like it was the only way to alleviate my emotional pain, to inflict real physical pain on myself. I was so ashamed of what I was doing to myself that I would wear sweatshirts and long sleeve shirts even in the summer. I wanted to hide the ugly scars on my arms and thighs.

There was one girl in particular who got teased tremendously in middle school because she self-harmed as well. They said she was doing it for attention and that she was a loser. I knew then and there I couldn’t ever let anyone find out about what I was doing behind closed doors. I thought to myself, “They’re just going to think I’m doing it for the attention,” when that really wasn’t the case at all. It was the exact opposite, actually. I didn’t want anyone to know. I would walk around school constantly pulling down my sleeves, checking to see if my scars were covered, and constantly fake this ridiculous smile on my face to make it seem like I was the happiest I could be.

It seemed to me that I needed to be happy, it’s what my family wanted, my friends wanted, it’s what I wanted as well. But, I just couldn’t be happy. I was in a dark depressing hole that I want to badly to climb out of, but I kept burying myself deeper and deeper with each day. I was so ashamed that I couldn’t go one day without crying, I thought I was a freak. Everyone else around me seemed so happy, why couldn’t that be me? Why couldn’t I be the one smiling and laughing? I hated myself for years, thinking that I was this huge freak for living with something I couldn't control. I kept telling myself, “This isn’t okay, you’re not okay.” It seemed to me that my life was worthless, if I couldn’t be happy, then why was I living?

Luckily I was able to speak up to my parents and tell them I needed professional help. I began seeing a therapist my junior year of high school. When I explained to her how this wasn’t okay, she smiled at me and said, “It’s okay not to be okay Taylor.” When she spoke those words I broke down into tears. Those were the words I had wanted to hear since the first day depression hit me like a truck. I just wanted reassurance that it was okay to be this way, that it wasn’t a disgrace. There’s a lot of media attention, especially social media, around depression and how to handle it. I have friends who struggle with depression and they too once thought that living with this mental beast they can’t control was a disgrace and that it wasn’t okay.

My biggest message I want to spread is that I want people to know, no matter what you’re going through, it is certainly okay not to be okay. Sometimes life is hard, and we don’t need to be happy every second of every moment of every day. Sometimes we need to hit rock bottom, so we have something to reach for and to strive for. Just know you’re not alone in this crazy, cruel, mixed up world. It’s okay not to be okay.