A letter

To the depressed and anxious mind:

I have walked in your shoes before, and I know how heavy they can be. I know what it’s like to feel nothing, to go to the grocery store and barely be able to count out your money because you’re so fuzzy, to be constantly so sleepy and never well rested. I know what it’s like to hate yourself. And what it’s like when you reach the breaking point and you just want to destroy yourself because you think you deserve it.

I know what it’s like to be so afraid that you shake and you can’t stop, and sometimes you’re so scared that you don’t breathe properly and your hands and feet go numb. And what it’s like when other people can do normal things with seeming ease, but for you, it’s the hugest struggle. I know what it’s like to break down in public, to lie in the floor of a public place as a 20-something-year-old because you literally can’t stand just to make it to the door. And how shameful it all is. Because everyone else seems so light and you feel so heavy, like you’re trying to run in deep water, never quite moving so fast, always pushing against a current bound to knock you the other way.

I know what it’s like to be an addict. I once watched TV for 8 hours straight because I didn’t want to be me anymore. I used to binge eat, make huge pans of cookies for myself, eat large bowls of mashed potatoes. Carbs were all I wanted. Which then made me gain weight, which made me dislike myself more.

I know what it’s like to question if the tragedies in your life are your fault. Perhaps that person hurt you because of some flaw of your own. Perhaps you are annoying or people don’t like you or you’re just a piece of trash. And then you isolate yourself further because you think it’s better that way.

I know what it’s like to feel a blade on skin. I only did it one time, but it only takes one time to form that memory. I remember I didn’t have big enough band-aids so I scotch-taped toilet paper to my legs. I did it because a friend got mad at me. I didn’t quite know how to get angry at people, only how to get angry at myself. I only knew how to implode because being a high empath made me want to keep the world around me intact, and the energy had to go somewhere so I turned it on myself.

I know all these things, and I know your story is probably different but in many ways it’s probably the same. And I want you to know, even if it’s just in this moment, that hope is not lost. You are not your illness. And it does get better.

It takes a lot of little steps but one day you look back and realize you’re no longer that ill person. I don’t know how you feel about God, but I know he was my best friend through it all and he pulled me out of that muck. Step by step, he rewired my brain, replaced my toxic thoughts with true ones. Step by step he worked through all the self hate with me. He was patient and kind. He never judged me when I had a bad day. He gently reminded me who I was, and that who I was wasn’t found in people or jobs or talent but in him. In being his child.

I honestly thought that I would have anxiety and depression for the rest of my life and it would just have to be something I coped with. But God challenged me to believe for healing. To have great faith.

And because of that, I can say today that I am mentally well. I am healthy and I don’t hate myself. When other people are negative to me now, I don’t see it as a direct result of some shortcoming of mine. I see it as a result of brokenness on their part. When things happen to trigger my anxiety, I am actually in control now. I used to be very irrationally afraid of throwing up to where I’d shake and sob if I even felt remotely nauseated. A couple of weeks ago, I got a full-on stomach bug and I didn’t shake, didn’t have a panic attack, didn’t even cry. I never thought I’d make it to that place.

I tell you this to say – fight for your one beautiful and precious soul. Give yourself grace. Take it step by step. Just get up and shower. Or read a chapter of a book. Or text a friend. Just consistently do little things. You won’t always see instant amazing results. But fight anyway. Who you are matters. And it doesn’t only matter for other people, but it matters for you. Because you are worthy to live an awesome life. The God of the universe made it so. If you only knew even a fraction of how much he loves you.

You are not broken and you are not a burden – you are a gift. Not what you can do but just who you are. Your presence. If you feel alone, know that not only is God rooting for you, but I am. And if you don’t believe and you don’t have hope, I’ll carry it for you and you can come pick it up whenever. I believe you are truly capable of astounding and beautiful things.

Your best days are ahead, friend. And you are so loved.

Love always,
Alex