1) Sorry for my English 2) If my family reads this - thank you for all your support
First of all, yesterday - it's March 4th here now - was an Always Keep Fighting anniversary.
And I cannot explain how much AKF meant to me - and still means a lot.
As someone struggling with mental illness, I am thankful for anyone who speaks up about it, who helps to fight the stigma.
There's so much shit about it on the internet - things like, I don't know, when I want to find a bipolar disorder quote online, I need to go through shitloads of stuff like "someone with bipolar doesn't like you? just wait, their mood will change soon anyway" and it fucking pisses me off.
There's so much more to bipolar disorder than mood swings. And we need people who dare to stand up, and say "You're wrong. Let's talk about it how it is. Learn some shit about mental illness instead of repeating something someone else said a long time ago".
I've learned to not google for quotes about mental illness (even though some days I'd want to find something that could describe my mood/day, without having to tell people myself).
To be honest, the last few days I've been a mess. Mood swings from hell, I don't take care of myself. I stay in bed for a few hours wondering if it's worth to get dressed and face the day.
On the surface - and on the photos I choose to show the world - it seems like I'm fine. It's easy to pretend. The thing is... I don't want to pretend anymore. I don't want to pretend like I'm fine.
I let myself break down in front of my family. Sure, I lock myself in the toilet and cry, too, but they know.
The biggest problem is that I can't explain what happened, when I break down. Sometimes it's things that trigger all the stupid thoughts, the voices, stupid scenarios and feelings of how worthless I am. And sometimes it's nothing. Nothing happened, nothing changed, there wasn't anyone who said anything to me and made me sad. No. Some days I just sit there, after being hyper and cleaning, or being inspired and creative - and something changes. The feelings, the thoughts. It all comes at once.
I can never explain what happened or how it happened, but suddenly I sit there and feel like giving up. No matter how hard I try to think positive, the negative thoughts take over.
I know people are trying to be helpful with "just be positive", but, honestly. Don't you think I'm trying? It's not easy to be in control of your mind, when your own mind's against you.
I've been fighting with all this for so many years. I never really told anyone, except my psychiatrists and some close friends. But I have troubles with talking about it with my family. I can't tell why, I just don't know how I guess? It's not like they wouldn't understand, I think they would. And I am thankful for that. They don't tell me "it's just a phase" or "you're just a little depressed".
I know many people get to hear that, especially younger people, facing a lot of problems, fighting with anxieties, depressions and other mental problems.
My theory is that, 1) people on internet glorify mental illnes. How beautiful it is, how they put "hot" in "psychotic" (I swear, if I hear someone close to me say that, I'll fucking slap them) and you know, self-harm is beautiful and suicide is too and all shit like that.
And... no, just no. You just fucking make it worse. Because people's parents, or caretakers or whatever you want to call them, get to see all this stuff on internet and they will think that people with REAL problems just do it for attention.
And, 2) it seems like older people are convinced that school is supposed to stress you out, that when you're in your teens you're supposed to be depressed etc. And that's wrong if you ask me.
I started going to a psychologist when I was, uhm, 14-15 or something like that. At first I thought it was okay, until she told me that "it's just a phase everyone goes through". And to be honest, even if that's the case, that "everyone goes through it", it doesn't help to hear a psychologist say that, right? I don't know, it didn't help me. It seemed like my problems weren't real in her eyes, because you know, everyone gets that and so on.
Funny thing? I'm 22 now, and I am still depressed and struggle with other things every day.
But do I give up? No. And no, I am not gonna put any lame quote here like "quitting is for losers" or "quitting lasts forever" etc.
Why don't I give up? That's a question I almost never know how to answer, really.
But somewhere deep inside I am convinced life will be better. If you've been through so much, it must turn some day, right? At least that's what I choose to believe.
Honestly, I don't know if any of this makes any sense.
I just felt like writing, because the first thing I saw this morning was Jared Padalecki's video on facebook about AKF and his new campaign, and it inspired me to be more open about my struggles.
Mostly because I hate how people make it taboo - you can't be depressed, you can't have anxiety, you can't have any other mental illness, because it'll "scare people away". How about... speaking up?
And sure, mental illness is scary and terrifying but if we don't speak up, people will always have the wrong picture of it in their heads.
I know there are people out there who are too scared to tell anyone how shitty they feel, how they don't want to live anymore. But please, please, please, seek help. There's nothing to be ashamed of. You are strong, you're still here, and that's so strong of you. You can do this!
_____
The last few weeks they've been talking on the radio about how this generation is more depressed than the others. You know what I think? I think people aren't so ashamed anymore, when they have to ask for help. Asking for help when you've reached the bottom is one of the strongest things you can do. It takes a lot of courage to do that. Because we all want to be perfect, healthy, and most of us feel like there's something wrong with us if we can't live up to that. Let me tell you - there is nothing wrong with you, and there is nothing wrong with asking for help.
Now I am going to be pretty open about how life went downhill for me. And it's scary, because it's the first time I am talking about it "openly" and I think my family's reading, my friends are reading and they all will know. But hell, why should I be ashamed, right?
Some time when I was 11, it all started. I've been bullied since I was 9. We were poor, we had to buy used books for school, we didn't have warm water.
And the first suicidal thoughts came around when I was 11. I didn't do anything, but I stayed home from school. I went from an A-student to almost never being in school. I had enough of people bullying me. Did I tell anyone? No. Some teachers knew, because they saw, but did they do anything? No. They just watched. And I took it. My young mind was convinced that I deserve all this. That I suck, that I stink, that I am ugly. That no one wants me (because hey, even my father left when I was a kid).
I remember one time when I was bullied in class, during lecture, and the only person to stand up for me, and tell the bullies to stop it, was one of my classmates - Dawid. Not even the teacher reacted.
And then when I was 13 we were moving to another country. You know when you can tell how fake people are, how fake-sad they are? That was my class. They were sad I was leaving. Or maybe they were just sad because they wouldn't have anyone to bully now.
And me? I was so happy. I could finally get away from them.
What I didn't know was that I was going to be bullied here too. Why? Because I'm coming from another country.
Thankfully, some teachers were amazing when it came to supporting me, to let me talk with them. They taught me that I shouldn't take anyone's shit, and that I am perfect the way I am, there's nothing wrong with me.
And to be honest, I probably wouldn't be here without my teachers, because they asked if I wanted to see a psychologist. And that's how it all started. Finding myself, realizing I am depressed, and that I need help and so on.
Because of all the problems, I've had troubles with education. Mostly because I wasn't in school. When I was in school, it was okay. Especially with my wonderful ES12 class. But my mind has been a dark place for a very long time.
It was nothing wrong with my class, nothing wrong with the teachers, I wasn't bullied. It was just my depressed mind, on the edge of giving up every day.
The last year of school started okay. I was looking forward to finally finishing, I lived on my own in a little "student apartment" and... somewhere, something went terribly wrong in my mind.
I remember that I stayed home from school for a few days because it all started with my stomach hurting. And then, then a part of me got up and wanted to take an overdose of all the pills I had.
But somewhere there, somewhere deep inside I felt I have to call my mom.
And really, almost no one knows this - except my psychiatrists.
I decided I'd call my mom and talk and calm down. And then I knew that I couldn't do it, I couldn't be alone, I wasn't ready for all this, I didn't get much better with my depression.
So I moved back home. And I called my psychiatrist, because I knew that I can't go on like that. But because I moved to another place, he had to contact the psychiatrist here, and I had to wait for a few months.
And it went so far, with all that shit in my head, that I am not even capable of studying or working right now.
And sure there are people hating me for it, because "oh you can be lazy all days" and so on.
Believe me, if I could somehow let you know how it feels to live with this kind of shattered mind, I would just to make you suffer for a moment. Me, I have to live with this for at least a few more years. I don't want to say "for the rest of my life", because I really hope one day my mind will heal and won't scare me anymore, but I am not sure.
As mentioned before, this week I've been a mess.
Today maybe I'll be less of a mess, I don't know.
And if any of you read all of this, my friends, my family - or people I met on the internet. Thank you.
It's one of the scariest things I've done. Being open about my struggles. But I am not ashamed anymore. It's just who I am, and I know there are people supporting me, believing in me.
And as you can see, there's a lot that can be hidden behind a smile.
And to all my friends who stayed even though I have been a real pain in the ass. Thank you.
Without you and your friendship I wouldn't be here.
Always Keep Fighting
&
Love Yourself First
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