Recovery: The Hardest Thing in Life

I’ve had depression and social anxiety for the last two years. It’s been a struggle, and just as all of you know, mental illness is no benign problem. And asking for help is the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But after you get over that first step, the hardest part is over.

I didn’t want help. I wanted to die and continue self-harming, because the way I saw it, death was the only option and cutting made me feel better. I thought, so why stop? I didn’t even know I had depression until I was diagnosed while in inpatient.

One night, I confided in my best friend who also suffers from mental illness. I was feeling suicidal and wanting to talk to her. That night she convinced me to tell my parents what was going on. She told me I needed to go to the hospital. My parents had no idea- they thought I was a happy, honors student, worry free teenager. I was scared out of my mind. I was crying almost the entire conversation. My mother reacted terribly, as expected. My father didn’t react at all. They agreed to take me to the doctor and from there I was accepted into inpatient care.

Telling them was the hardest part. The fear, feeling like you’re ruining their lives, wanting to keep it a secret to make it seem like you’re okay, everything. But believe me, once you do tell your parents or anybody for that matter, getting help is 10 times easier. They don’t want to see you suffering. They want you to get better. They may not understand, or say you need to shake it off or just get over it. But ultimately they love you and don’t want to see you suffer.

If you haven’t told someone about your mental illness, please go tell them as soon as possible. You don’t deserve to feel this way any longer. You’re worth getting help. And you may not see it, but it really does get better. Truly. Recovery is hard and you may slip up or relapse, but at least you’re getting the help you need and deserve.