The Light Switch

Recently I've hit a bit of a slump. The creative wave I was riding appears to have broken, and I find myself remembering that I'm not the strongest of swimmers. So instead of trying to be creative, I'm going to be honest.

The last few weeks have brought me to a bit of a standstill. The reason for this seems to be that I'm walking the fine line between the person I want to be and the person I have been for the last 5 years.

To clarify, I have spent the bulk of the last half-decade struggling quite profoundly with anxiety and depression. This isn't something I've ever spoken about openly before, because it wasn't until recently that I finally accepted the simple truth; I was ill. I had an illness.

This realisation took a long time to come to, but I'm happy to say that it's the most important epiphany I've ever had. I feel that it's important because my illness and my description of it is slowly being relegated to the past tense. I'm using words like "was" and "had" and I can't tell you how amazing and new that feels to me.

By now, you may be wondering why I was depressed?

Firstly, I should clarify that that question is easily the most infuriating and difficult question I've ever had to answer. Simply because I have no idea. Depression is a weird illness. It's the emotional equivalent of being trapped in a dark room with a group of people who are screaming at you to turn the light on, but you can't find the light-switch because somebody keeps moving it. After a while, people just begin to assume that you don't want to, and that you're being purposely difficult.

I assure you; that's not the case.

Nobody enjoys feeling that way. Worse than how you feel is the lack of understanding you have for it. The hardest thing is watching people give up on you because of it. Note that this distancing isn't immediate; people stay with you and have the best of intentions, but eventually that darkness becomes too much. This departure can feel cruel at the time, but if I've learned anything in the last four months, it's that this may be for the best in the long run.

Being on my own has allowed me the time to completely focus on myself and figure out exactly how to make myself better, and for the most part, it's worked. For the first time in a long time I wouldn't self-identify as "depressed". I've found the switch and I'm seeing a light at the end of a very long tunnel. More than that, I finally feel strong enough to talk about it.

What I'm about to write will be as serious and as honest a statement as I have ever made. I write this with no irony, and no hint of exaggeration. When I was 21, I promised myself that if I felt like this when I was 30, I'd end it. I repeated this promise to myself nearly everyday for 3 years. I'm happy to say this is not a promise I will keep.

I make this admission because I know how easy it can be to lose yourself to that. So if you're reading this and you've felt that way, I'd like to leave you with what I've learned in the last four months.

It really does get better. As somebody that was so convinced that I'd feel this way forever, I cannot stress that enough.

Just give it time. Don't be afraid or ashamed to talk about it, and remember to breathe. Sometimes that's enough.

Life really is beautiful. You just have to find the light.