In my early adulthood, I found myself at a crossroads. At 18, I moved from my family home into a modest one-bedroom apartment—a space filled with inexpensive furnishings from a local store. My decor was simple: a few nesting tables, a couple of beanbag chairs, a card table with folding chairs, a futon, and a fragile white bookcase that held my beloved collection of books. It was sparse, but it represented independence. This place was mine.
Just two weeks earlier, I had entered college with high hopes, but the excitement quickly turned into dread. I had transitioned from a motivated student to someone who couldn’t even muster the energy to attend class. Instead, I found myself retreating into the darkness of my hotel room, overwhelmed with anxiety and a sense of failure. By the time I held the keys to my new apartment, I was already in the grips of my first depressive episode.
As young adults, we often receive warnings about drugs, alcohol, and other risky behaviors. Yet, no one prepares us for the isolation that can accompany such significant life changes. The transition to adulthood can be incredibly stressful, especially for those of us who have battled mental health issues before. I quickly learned that it doesn’t take long for the weight of these changes to crush your spirit.
I withdrew from college during my second semester, opting to keep this decision a secret throughout my freshman year. I started isolating myself, hiding away in my boyfriend’s dorm room, avoiding any semblance of normalcy. When he would ask about school or suggest I find work, tears would flow. My life felt chaotic, but it was not due to partying or recklessness; it stemmed from my mental illness.
Instead of reaching out and seeking help, I let shame take control. I tried to cope through self-medication, experimenting with various methods to numb the pain. It wasn’t until I sought therapy that I began to see a glimmer of hope. While things weren’t perfect, they were improving—primarily because I finally chose to break my silence.
It has taken me years to feel comfortable discussing my mental health. Despite knowing I shouldn’t feel ashamed, the fear consumed me. I worried that others would think I was crazy, or worse, that they wouldn’t understand the depths of my pain. I often felt like no one cared, a belief that sometimes still creeps back in.
Talking about mental illness can be daunting. It’s hard to articulate feelings of emptiness and worthlessness, especially when surrounded by friends and family. Yet, remaining silent only perpetuates the cycle of shame and isolation. Staying quiet means staying sick.
Now, I refuse to let shame define me. Yes, there are still moments of fear and sorrow, but I am committed to speaking out. I deserve to be free from the weight of guilt and embarrassment, and so does everyone else battling similar challenges. You are not your illness; you are a resilient individual deserving of compassion and understanding.
To anyone hiding their struggles—whether it be a friend putting on a brave face or a family member sitting quietly at gatherings—know this: You are stronger than your circumstances. Living with depression or any mental illness can be an uphill battle, but you will emerge victorious. You are not alone in this fight.
If you’re looking for resources or support, check out Kindbody’s blog for valuable insights on mental health and well-being. And for those interested in home insemination options, visiting Make a Mom can provide essential information. Additionally, you might find our post on intracervical insemination informative.
In summary, don’t let shame silence you. Speak out, seek help, and remember: You are worth it.