This is a bit of a different context because I don’t know you all personally. But the sentiment is the same.
I posted this to my facebook today:
Vaguebooking PSA blend of nostalgia and euphoria—-Sometimes, realizing you need help is the hardest decision you’ll ever have to make. Picking up the phone, talking to a friend, setting up that meeting, can take so much courage/terror. My message to any friends feeling lost: Do it.
I made the choice.
I feel better than I have in months, maybe years. I realized talking to my mom, even if we disagree, is always helpful. I’m closer than ever to my friends. For the first time, they have a sense of what’s going on in my life. I feel more open and more free.
And I am so infinitely happier.
I was in such a hole and I don’t even know if my work will get done in time for graduation now. But I don’t care, because I know I’m healthier, and my mind is back to normal and even able to do that work. So I still have hope, and focus, and the passion for what I’m doing.
And I’m oversharing because it’s such a big step to admit anything. This ridiculous rant is part of me validating my experience.
But I’m doing so because as I’ve addressed my issues—my mental health— I’ve realized so many of my friends have had to do so too. And in some cases, were doing so in as lonely a place as I was. And it terrifies to to realize, a year after the fact, that they were hurting so very much and never said anything.
Thanks to my best friend, my sister, my dear dear friend that magically developed out of a freshman year strange hatred for each other, breaking me down, I found help before that happened.
But now we can talk. And support each other. And I can talk to more friends. And be supported and support them
Shit goes down in our early-20s, I’ve realized.
This feels ridiculous, using a forum like this.
But for anyone, anyone out there — know that my facebook friends list is relatively small. Know that I keep you around for a reason. Know that I love you. That I WILL be there for you, with all my 1 month of experience in seeking psychiatric help, but with 2 years of experience in slowly feeling more lost, alone, and confused. Know that mental health issues are chemicals fucking up your brain, and it is NOT your fault. Know that your brain telling you to give up, that this new, irritable, sad, lethargic, lonely and messed up version of you is just the new real you, is LYING. I almost gave up. I thought that Happy Carefree Hyper Mariana was gone forever. That I had just “grown past that.” I almost lost myself because my chemicals were fucked up and led me down dangerous paths.
I got help. And it didn’t take much. A meeting, an eval, and yes, some medications. But I am so, so much happier, and rooted in my support group now.
To anyone. Talk. Be okay. know if you don’t feel okay that that can change.
Because I want you to be as happy as I now am.
Love you guys.
My ask is always open, is the phrase we toss around here.
I love that so many people are so supportive of strangers. I want to be too.
Be happy, friends. Or, know that you can get there.
Opening your heart and being courageous and telling people that you care about them or like them or that you think they’re special only makes you a better, bigger, kinder, softer, more loving person and only attracts more love in your life.
20mg Citalopram By Mouth Once per Day
Selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors
First step first-line treatments
n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—which grows back again and again until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.