In the fall of 2010 was when I started high school. This seems like a big enough milestone in and of itself. But it was significant for another reason. September of 2010 was when I was also clinically diagnosed with Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). Other than having a completely ironic acronym, it's also a bit of a mystery: SAD doesn't affect the patient year round.
The symptoms normally onset in the late fall/ early winter when people begin to spend less time in the sun and more time inside. The lack of vitamin D is said to be what causes the mood swings, depression and general feeling of worthlessness.
Because the symptoms are not a constant battle and allow me to enjoy my time to be alive in the summer months, I've been told my mental illness "isn't real". But since I do technically have a mental illness, I've also been called crazy.
In the fall of 2010, I couldn't get out of bed most mornings and had stomachaches that my mind created to try to get out of school. But my mental illness isn't real.
I hardly completed any work and started off the year failing because I couldn't find the motivation to do anything other than sleep. But my mental illness isn't real.
I sat through a month of therapy, three times a week until I just refused to go anymore because my therapist wanted to blame my depression on my parents divorce rather than my own screwy brain. But my mental illness isn't real.
I spent that winter hating myself because I was making my mother unhappy because she couldn't stand to see me in pain but couldn't fix in. But my mental illness isn't real.
I have episodes still today. I wake up wanting to not exist and spend the whole day wishing I was in bed and not burdening anyone with my presence. I spend my nights wishing I would disappear to just make everyone's life easier since no one would miss me. But my mental illness isn't real.
But on the flip side, I'm still "crazy"
I was never put on antidepressants because my mom didn't want me to become dependent on pills. But I'm still crazy.
After a month of therapy, I quit because I felt better for a week because the weather got nicer temporarily. But I'm still crazy.
I learned to know when I'm having an episode and reach out to someone to vent my feelings to before I spiral back down that road. But I'm still crazy.
I have no physical scars from self harm. But I'm still crazy.
Even today, I rarely have episodes because I have a great support system of people who understand how complicated SAD is and know to give me time if I shy away. But I'm still crazy.
And even when I do, I know the depression will be over soon and that the light at the end of the tunnel will literally make me feel better.
So please, when talking to anyone who has SAD or any mental illness, don't play a game of "my horse is bigger than your horse". Every mental illness is valid and each hurts the victim and their families equally as much. Just try to smile and be comforting and let that person know you're there for them. That's all you can really do.
