Over 300 million people are affected by depression worldwide. Mental illness, as a whole, affects one in six people. Now, think. How many of those people must be working in customer service? A lot. Millions to be more precise.

And I am one of those people.

I began working in "customer service" at the age of 15. Christopher's Corner was the hottest ice cream parlor in town: we had the best ice cream, the best burgers, and alas, the best customer service. Every day I saw hundreds of faces and every day I greeted them with the biggest smile on my face, no matter how I was feeling that day. Fast forward four years and here I am, still working in customer service--this time without the fried foods and sticky surfaces--but fake smiles and happy greetings all the same. Fake smiles, that is, on the bad days.

On bad days, none of the customer service "norms" come naturally to me.

I run through the motions in my head: smile, eyes light up, "hello, how are you doing today," make small-talk, keep smiling, don't stop smiling, whatever you do do not stop smiling, walk them to the exit, "have a nice day," repeat.

And although I am sincere in all of my actions and words, it can be absolutely draining when all you want to do is lie in bed and do nothing.

When I asked a couple people, "What is it like working in customer service with a mental illness?" I was shocked to see how similar my experiences were with those of the people I asked.

Here is that insight on what it is like working in customer service whilst dealing with a mental illness:

"I come home exhausted."

"I excuse myself to do tasks that don't involve the customers"

"I've locked myself in the bathroom to take a five-minute mental health break; like a smoke break, but different."

"As soon as I walk out of the door, my shoulders hunch and my body feels heavy with the effort it took to be that happy woman who stands behind the counter. Because she's not real."

"Some days it's a relief to have a reason to not be in your own head so deeply and other days it's a giant burden. Putting on a front for people you don't know is less exhausting than putting on a front for people you do know, but it is still tiring."

"I don't talk to any of my coworkers and I go to the bathroom a lot to get away."

All of the above is something that I have felt at some point during my years in customer service. But I cannot indulge enough in how much weight it takes off my shoulders to know I am not alone in my feelings; in my emotions; in my exhaustion.

Life is already hard. Life with a mental illness is hard. Working in customer service with a mental illness is hard. But there are people everywhere who know exactly what you are feeling; people that might work behind the counter with you. You have a support system in everywhere you go--even at work. Hopefully, this realization makes it all a little bit more bearable.