Today is World Mental Health Day.
I never thought I would celebrate it.
I never thought anything was wrong with me
(Can you even say something is wrong?)
On the outside, there I am:
Strong, carefree, smiling, laughing
On the inside?
That’s a different story.
Weak, worrying, whimpering, crying.
I hid it as well as I could,
Cracking when the pressure was too much.
That pressure, that weight,
I put it upon myself.
Over and over and over,
I kept telling myself,
Just one more day.
Just one more day.
Just one more day.
Over and over and over.
Nothing is wrong.
You’re just hurting.
You’re just broken.
I didn’t know how broken I was.
Not until I was diagnosed.
I started crying when I was told.
I was broken.
It wasn’t just in my head.
It was and it wasn’t.
I took the tests.
I got my meds.
I started getting better.
Today? I’m still healing.
I’m still working on getting better.
Life has knocked me down,
More than I had hoped,
In my 20, almost 21, years.
It just makes me stronger.
I realize that now.
I’m stronger than I was.
I’m happier than I was.
I’m still struggling.
Who isn’t?
I am depressed.
I will not let that define me.
I will not let that become me.
Depression is a part of me.
It is not me.
It does not fully make up me.
I am still me.
Jenna Elizabeth Friesen.
Strong.
(Even if I don’t feel like it)
Happy.
(There is bad with the good)
Living and loving life,
For once.
For once in a long time,
I can say that I want life.
I relish it.
That is me beating depression.
That is me beating that part,
That part of myself.