For the people who may know me, you may have a certain idea of who I am. For the people who don't know my, this post may be the first impression I leave on you. Whether or not that impression is a lasting one or not is left up to the words I will soon be writing about.

This past year has been hands down one of the hardest ones yet and has left the biggest impact on my life. I have discovered new struggles and difficulties that I could have chosen to defeat me. I use the word chosen strongly. People are faced with choices every day such as what to wear today, what to eat for dinner, or what movie to watch on Netflix. For some people, The choices seem to be divided between defeat and conquer.

Mental Illness is a serious matter that a lot of people choose not to care about. Anxiety is more than stress and worry. Depression is more than "feeling down". Eating disorders are more than skipping a meal to be skinner. Suicide is more than just saying you want to kill yourself. I give all of these examples as just a fraction of what Mental Illness can stand for because I have suffered from them and I have overcome them.

Mental Illness is not my title, it is my story and in my story, I have realized my weakness and made it a strength. I gave myself a choice of being defeated or continue to fight and I chose to fight every day of my life.

In 2015, I gave myself a permanent reminder of my vow to fight with a semicolon tattoo. To explain, The semicolon tattoo represents the point where an author could’ve ended a sentence but chose not to. You are the author and the sentence is your life. I chose to continue my story and to also be there for people who are struggling to continue their story.

I recently wrote an essay covering one of the hardest obstacles I had to overcome and I decided to write about my mental illness battle. Although it is not something I have overcome necessarily, It is something that I have battled with for several years and is something that I am not ready to give up on. Sharing this side of myself is not something that becomes easier to do the more I share it, but I hope it can impact somebody to where they know they are not alone in this battle.

Here is my story, thank you for listening.

Throughout my life, I have always faced challenged. It is safe to say that everyone in the world has faced a challenge in some shape or form. The unique factor about an obstacle is that it could be anything or everything. It can be the flat tire on your way to work or it can be that one class that seems to be nearly impossible to succeed at. In my case, my most challenging obstacle that I have come to face over the years is myself. Don't get me wrong, not having my morning cup of coffee can lead to a challenging day, but it is probably better to limit my caffeine intake here and there. My obstacle has not necessarily been overcome, but it is a work in progress and that's how I keep myself going each day.

Some may say that my childhood contributed to how I am today. My parent’s divorced when I was two. Both remarried, both re-divorced. My first relative died when I was five years old. I moved in and out of schools and was subjected to the finer qualities of education- bullies. It was not the end of the world when I was younger. I had an entire future to look forward to and conquer. The years of arts and crafts and recess quickly ended as I entered into the years of middle school. This would be the beginning of my obstacles.

Middle school is an interesting time. It is a building filled with hormonal teenagers that are going through puberty at different times and it is most likely to be remembered as the time so very many like to forget. I had a rough start when I entered middle school, mostly because I was the new girl from a different town and I did not do well with meeting new people. I made some friends here and there, did well academically, and was enjoying my new surroundings. It wasn't until I entered the eighth grade that my entire life would be flipped around from head to toe.

Eighth grade was the time where I started my journey of having an eating disorder. It was not nearly as bad then as it would soon be worse in the years to come. I noticed that I was not as skinny as the other girls in my class (even though I was 4 feet 8 inches and weighed 90 pounds) and I fell into the spiral of desire to fit in among society. I limited my food intake by skipping breakfast and once the sophomore year of high school came around, I was skipping breakfast and lunch. I also played sports in high school so between working out and skipping meals, I was golden to lose those extra pounds. I was actively limiting my food intake for three years until I decided that the way I was acting was not normal. As a teenager, I was afraid of my parent's disapproval 24/7. As I started to see how much harm I was causing my body, I knew I had to tell someone. It was my grandmother’s birthday and after everyone left for the night, I gathered up the courage to tell my mother. It took me three years and countless throwing away of meals and lying to my parent’s to come to the conclusion that I couldn't stop what I was doing without help. It takes strength to realize a problem, but it takes, even more, strength to address it and ask for help. I told my mother and she didn't treat me like I was a disgrace to the family. Instead, she helped me. I met with doctors and a nutritionist and was able to defeat the obstacle before it could defeat me. I was anorexic for three years but have now been able to eat a balanced meal and maintain a healthy weight for four years now. It took a year to break out of the cycle I had created, but I did it.

Speaking up about the problems you are facing is an extremely difficult thing to do. Some people worry about how others will react or if they will be taken seriously. Speaking up for myself when I was in trouble was one of the bravest things I could have done to save myself. Beating an eating disorder was only the beginning of the difficult obstacles I was going to face in the years to come.

During the time I was battling my eating disorder, I was also battling a few variations of mental illness. Throughout my life, I have been a very shy person who tended to keep to herself during uncomfortable situations. In other words, I had terrible social anxiety that made meeting new people rather difficult. I did not think much about it at the time for I also saw it as me being a shy person. It was not until the fall semester of 2015 that I was able to put a name to the way I have been my whole life.

In order for me to put a few events on my timeline together, I need to explain another aspect of my mental illness. This is another obstacle that I ask for an open mind as I discuss. I have never let my depression define me as a person, it nearly is a story in the long book about my life. I have had depression or have experienced depression for six years. It started in my puberty years of middle school and developed heavier in my later years in high school and college. I always tend to add extra stress to my life and worry more than the average person my age. As of right now, I am torn between worrying about how to learn the fundamentals of stoichiometry and which character will die in Grey’s Anatomy during season 12. I never spoke about how I was feeling inside my head for I thought it was normal to be down in the dumps for a long period of time. It was not until the fall semester of 2015 that everything changed.

I had reached the rock bottom of rock bottoms. I was struggling academically and worried about how if I did not pass this one single class that my entire future of graduating and having a career would disappear into oblivion and be lost forever. I was losing some close friendships and had other relationships turn on me. I was involved in a sorority that wanted nothing to do with me. At the time, I could no longer handle the weight being pushed down upon my shoulders. After a few long hours of crying on the phone with my mother, I knew my depression was something that I couldn’t let live on inside me. It was not normal for me to feel the way I did and I was tired of the same routine of feeling down and alone one minute and feeling fine the next. The next day, I made an appointment to meet with a counselor.

Courage can be defined in many ways. In textbook, it is defined as the ability to do something that frightens one or the strength in the face of pain or grief. My courage was defined as speaking out to find help when it was heavily needed. It takes a great deal of courage to admit you need help but it takes a greater deal of strength to admit you need help more than once. Asking for help was my courage.

For two months, I met with a counselor every week for an hour. Some meetings were harder than others as I peeled back the layers I had created in the span of six years. The way I was feeling was not because I was too emotional or too in depth with my feelings. I was diagnosed with severe chronic depression that would re-occur without notice. Having a name to the way I had felt over the years allowed the weight on my shoulders to become lighter and I was able to breathe. Speaking to someone who would listen on a weekly basis to help me and be there for me was incredible. I always knew that my family was there for me, but they couldn't help me the same way my counselor could and did.

My visits to the counseling center vary depending on how bad my depression is at certain times. There are some months where I feel normal and can climb mountains and then there are some months where it takes every ounce of strength to get out of bed. After the long journey I have taken with my mental illnesses, I know that it is okay to feel the way I do and that I have the power to not let it define me as a person.

Mental illness is a chapter in my story, not my title. I have come a tremendous way from the person I used to be and I strive on that. I can do anything that I allow myself to do and I have learned that it is completely okay to ask for help, even when it is painful. My well-being is the most important obstacle I have come to face and I believe that I will always be challenged by it in some way. I obtain the strength needed to conquer my inner demons and I no longer will allow it to run my life. I may have bad days but they will be followed by good days and that is what gets me up every morning. I set my own limitations in life and I choose to set those limitations by the amount of strength I have to face them. I believe that I can do anything I set my heart and mind to, and that is what I intend to do every day of my life. Life's a journey and obstacles will be thrown out of nowhere and some obstacles may have to be accepted, but I am blessed to live another day to conquer those obstacles one at a time.

If you or a loved one are suffering from mental illness, you are never alone. If it is an emergency, or if you are worried that you or someone you know may be at risk for suicide, please call your local authorities (911), contact a mental health professional, or call and talk to someone at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). It is never too late.